


you and i have memories (longer than the road that stretches out ahead)

by lovelyflowersinherhair



Series: a love so warm and beautiful (stands when time itself is falling) [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, unrequited John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 134,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/pseuds/lovelyflowersinherhair
Summary: With the troubled production of The Beatles behind them (well, mostly), Paul McCartney is a man left adrift. Torn between his desire to remain a member of the Beatles and the excitement of his newly growing family, there are days that he doesn't know which end is up. Unfortunately for Paul, his feelings of confusion directly contradict with his role in the band of the reluctant leader.With John in the Priory and Cynthia trying to plaster up their broken relationship, no one pays the sudden absence of Yoko any mind. It is assumed that her accident has caused her to slink away, especially since John is mostly out of the picture, and George and Pattie have begun to start having marital problems.Paul is content to remain ensconced in Scotland away from it all, but when United Artists forces the band to complete the final film in their contract, he finds himself to be part of an unwanted documentary.
Relationships: George Harrison & John Lennon & Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr, John Lennon & Paul McCartney, Linda McCartney/Paul McCartney, Maureen Cox/Ringo Starr, Pattie Boyd/George Harrison, Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr
Series: a love so warm and beautiful (stands when time itself is falling) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713067
Comments: 21
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

“Do you really want to talk about it?” Ringo asked Paul hesitantly, as the younger man busied himself making them a pair of drinks. 

“Talk about what?” Paul asked him. “Whiskey neat? Or on the rocks?” 

“Whatever suits you is fine with me,” he assured him. “I meant did you really want to talk about what happened with John.” He watched as Paul stiffened. “I mean, we don’t have to talk about it. I really don’t mind.” 

“I thought that you were meant to be in the studio helping George mix the record for stereo?” He said in response, in an impressively clipped tone. “Surely the two of you didn’t finish that task already?” 

“I couldn’t stay there any longer,” he admitted. “George was in an awful mood, and when Pattie showed up, I wanted nothing to do with whatever it was they started to row over.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

He heard Paul let out a sigh. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, and he turned away from the bar and handed him one of the drinks, taking a fortifying sip of his own. “We can compare war stories. How does that sound? I’ll tell you how today’s trip to the insane asylum fried my sanity, and you can tell me what you think George has done now. That way Linda’s happy because I’ve discussed the situation with John with one of you, and we can take bets on the state of the Harrisons’ marriage.” 

Ringo heard the sound of the television clicking on in Paul’s parlour, and the sounds of whatever programme Heather and Linda had settled on could be heard livening up the background. 

“What are they watching?” 

A ghost of a smile came to Paul’s face. “Oh, you know how we’d get with the American telly? Remember, when we’d be on tour and we’d get to the hotels and we’d flick it on and we’d go mad over the daftest programmes? It’s the same for them, coming here from America. It’s all new to them, so they just enjoy whatever suits their fancy at any given time.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” he told him, and he took a sip from his drink. “They find the Beeb to be a novelty?” 

“The Beeb, ITV, I think that Heather would be sorted if she happened upon a test pattern. When they came over here I ordered a new telly, I tell you, it’s brilliant. It’s colour. Top of the line. Set me back a few quid, but I charged it to Apple. I wouldn’t have minded paying for it meself,” he added. “I just want them to be happy here.” 

“You have to know that they’re happy here,” Ringo told him, in what he hoped was an assuring tone. “I mean, surely you’ve noticed that?”

“I’ve noticed that there are people in our lives that seem to think that my daughter’s happiness is a joke, that’s what I’ve noticed.” 

“Was John rude--”

Paul shook his head. “No, he was fine with them. I mean, we know that he’s not brilliant with children when he’s at his brightest and best, let alone when he’s been locked away in a sanitorium for over two months, but I was impressed. He was better with her than I thought he’d be.” He lit up a smoke. “No, I actually have a problem with Cynthia.” 

“Cyn?” Ringo echoed. “What did she do?” 

“What didn’t she do?” Paul said with a loud sigh. “Look, I swear that I didn’t realise that she was going to head out to the solarium where they were sitting and waiting for me. Had I known, I would have suggested that John and I just go out there ourselves and have our little...discussion around my fiancee and our daughter.” He shook his head. “It was a lapse of judgement. I won’t let it happen again. She’s just so  _ awful _ to them, especially Hettie.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I won’t apologise for getting me act together and wanting to be a dad and a husband. I’m sorry that John couldn’t hack it, but I will. I’m not him and I was never really going to be her replacement for him, I don’t care what she thought, or what she led Julian to believe. So she can be angry at me for this all she wants, but I don’t want her taking her anger toward me out on me girls. Especially Heather.” He shook his head. 

Ringo watched as he sat down in a chair, and gestured to the other one, clearly expecting him to sit as well. He decided to oblige him. What was the harm in it? 

“What do you mean, especially Heather?” 

“I mean that I might not have been able to defend me daughter from being bullied and treated like she’s rubbish at her local primary school, since I reckon they frown on adults storming the school to demand an audience with their pupils, but I will be damned if I let anyone that I can defend her against make her feel like shite. You saw what I did earlier with those fans? I’ve warned them to leave her alone, and they seem utterly incapable of listening, so I’ve started to raise me voice. I don’t like yelling at them, you know, but what else can we do? They certainly don’t listen. But, whatever, they teenagers. They’re daft. We were daft when we were their age.” He took a sip of his drink. “I just think that Cyn should know better than to make fun of me five year old for how she talks. She’s a mum! Shouldn’t she know how to not upset children? Mo would never do that. It just made me angry that she’d take whatever problems she had with me out on them.” 

“What was she saying?” 

“Maybe she didn’t mean any harm by it,” he said. “I don’t really know. It’s possible that she was just making conversation and Heather took it the wrong way, but she was still upset. She was crying in front of people, and she hates doin’ that. She said some stuff to Linda, too. I just don’t get it. She’s the one who stuck with John. She didn’t have to pull her divorce petition. I’m not entirely sympathetic.” He shook his head. “Your turn.”   
  


“What?” 

“What were the two lovebirds rowing about today?” 

It was Ringo’s turn to roll his eyes. “Apparently Pattie thinks that George may not be entirely faithful to her,” he drawled. “I mean, not really certain she’s not bang on the money there.” 

“What? Why is that news to her? The birds around me fence are certainly aware. More than one of them’s pulled ‘im.” 

“I know, really, I wouldn’t have wasted my breath if I were her. He tells her whatever it is that she wants to hear and we all know it’s not true, but she buys it if it suits her.” 

“When I got with Lin, I decided that I was all in,” Paul told him, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It wasn’t fair to her that she and Heather upend their entire lives and then what? Come to London, to me, and find me chasing skirts ‘round? I’ve had me fill of that. Want to settle down all proper like, you know? We’ve got our own little family going. It’s pretty amazing.” 

“You three? Or is there another little McCartney joining the ranks?”

Paul shook his head. “No, not yet. Lin’s gone off her pill, though. We’re not exactly not trying. And, you know, I’d be happy with a litter of McCartneys and I’d be happy with Heather as well.” 

“What does Heather think? Have you told her?” 

“She thinks a baby sibling would be brilliant,” Paul said, his tone one of fondness. “Yeah, we wanted to make sure that she’d be okay with it. I’d hate for her to feel excluded. But she wants to be a big sister and she wants there to be a wedding, I think maybe she reckons a wedding will make her seem more official...I dunno, really. She’s my daughter regardless of the wedding, but if it sorts people out and gets them to be quiet, well, I’m fine with that.” 

Ringo heard the patter of little feet, and was unsurprised when Heather herself came into the room, and sidled up beside Paul. 

“Hello, Heather,” he offered. She shot him a grin. 

Paul glanced over at her. “What’ve we got here? What brings you into me study? Hello, darlin’. Say hi to Uncle Ringo.” 

Heather offered him a shy hello, before she returned her attention to Paul. “I don’t want to watch telly anymore,” she informed him. “What are you talking about?” 

* * *

  
  
  


“Does Mummy know that you’ve come to join us?” Paul asked Heather in a mock-admonishing tone, though he set his drink on the arm of his chair so he could scoop her up in his arms and settle her on his lap. “Or have you abandoned her?” 

“She fell asleep,” Heather said, and her lips formed a pout. “I tried to sleep with her and not bother you and Uncle Ringo, but I’m not tired.” 

“Ta, Hettie, it’s okay,” he assured her, and he shifted so there was enough room for her to curl up beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, almost entirely out of habit. “We don’t mind if you want to spend time with us, you know.” 

“It’s an honour,” Ringo added. “Getting to spend time with young Heather McCartney.” 

Heather giggled, before she gazed up at Paul. “Do I really get to be Heather McCartney? Like, when you and Mum get married and stuff?” 

“Is that what you want? Because that’s what we were planning on doing, you know, giving us all the same name, but if you don’t want that--”

“I do! I do want that,” she insisted. “You’re my dad. I want that.” 

“I’m glad, darling,” he murmured. He took another sip of his drink. “I’m so sorry about earlier. I hate when people do that to you and Mummy.” 

She kissed him on the cheek. “I know, Daddy,” she whispered. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.” 

Paul was still very angry about what had happened between Cynthia and his family, but he forced himself to put those feelings aside. It would have done him no good to fly into a rage with Heather tucked in the crook of his arm, clearly needing his proximity to her, and if she wasn’t angry, well, then he’d just have to deal. Even though he was angry. 

“That’s right,” he said, and he forced himself to sound cheerful. “I’m your daddy. That’s not going to change because one of me supposed friends is rude to you and Mummy. I’m never going to change me mind about being your dad.” 

“I know that you won’t.” 

“Your dad’s been telling me that you’re going to be homeschooled, Heather?” Ringo interjected. 

“No one at school likes me,” she whispered. “I never want to go back.” 

“I did lessons at home, too, did you know that? In my case it was because I was in and out of the hospital, but I did okay with them. I’m sure that you’re going to do brilliantly.” 

“Thank you, Uncle Ringo.” 

“We’re going to sort things out over the Christmas holiday,” he explained, his fingers curled in Heather’s hair. “Seems no reason for us to bring it up now with it only a couple weeks out.” 

“What are you doing for Christmas? Going to New York?”

He shook his head. “No, we’ve decided to head to Cheshire. Me dad wants to spend Christmas with his new granddaughter, and it will be good for Heather to spend time with Ruth and me stepmum. You like Ruth and Angie, right?” 

Heather nodded. “Yeah, they’re nice to me,” she agreed. “I want to spend Christmas in England.” 

“You will,” he promised. “We’ll have the family Christmas with all of them and then when we come home we’ll have a second Christmas, just the three of us. How does that sound?”

She nodded again. “Will Santa know that I’ve left New York?” 

“We’ll write him a letter,” Paul told her, as he petted her hair. “I can do the actual writing for you, but you can tell me what you want me to write to Father Christmas. Does that sound like something you’d like to do?” 

She nodded. “You’ll really write it for me?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “We’ll work on it together, yeah?” 

“Okay,” she said. “I like that idea.” 

“Father Christmas?” Ringo echoed, confusion evident in his tone. “Aren’t you Jewish?” 

Paul squinted in his direction. “Mate. Me last name is McCartney. Does that sound particularly Hebrew to you?” He took another sip of his drink. 

“Not you,” he said. “Heather. I thought…” 

“Santa brings me presents,” Heather told him. “I dunno what I am.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you are,” he said softly, as she nestled closer to him. “You and Mum can do whatever you want, yeah? You can celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah, if you’d like. I’d sort out some of those pancakes for ye.” Heather giggled. “You think I’m funny?” 

“Mummy’s the one who cooks for us,” she said, her tone rather insistent. “Remember? You made me that omelette, when you came to visit us in New York? You put everything in it. It was horrid.” 

“I’d never made one before,” he reminded her. “We ate it, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah, Da, but it was terrible,” she said, and she giggled loudly. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“Ah, lamb, it’s all right,” he said, and he leaned in so that he could whisper in her ear. “To tell you the truth, I know that I’m not a very good cook. I can get by if I’m on me own, but I really love your mum’s cooking. She knows how to feed a Northern man right.” 

“Is that what you are? A Northern man?” 

“Sure I am,” he said, a hint of pride coming into his voice. “I grew up in Liverpool, we all did, the lot of us. That’s oop north. You remember when I took you and Mum to Liverpool, right?”

“When we went on British Railways?” Heather asked him. “We had the carriage all to ourselves?” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” 

“I don’t know why Aunt Mimi didn’t want to ride on it,” she continued. “It was so fun.” 

“I reckon that she was cheesed off about Uncle John and his behaviour around her that day,” Paul told her, and he affected a tone. “Now John, the guitar’s all well and good, but you’ll never make a living off it.” He kissed Heather’s forehead. “Well, we showed her, didn’t we?” 

“We did?” 

“People thought that we’d amount to nothing,” he told her. “That we’d be a flash in the pan, or that we’d maybe find some sort of success playing the clubs over in Hamburg. We were a joke, Heather. Now look at us. Look at where we live.” He gestured at the room they were in. “My mum wanted this for me, but she never thought that it would actually be attainable. She thought that we’d be stuck in council housing. Now you won’t have to want for nothing.” 

“Angie’s not your mum?” 

He glanced at her and he shook his head. “No, she’s married to Dad, and Ruth can be my sister if she wants, that’s all well and good with me, but Angie? She’s me stepmum. I barely know her. She married Dad after I’d moved here.” 

“When you were a grown up?” Heather snuggled closer. He nodded. “How old were you?” 

“When she marred me dad?” She nodded. “I was twenty-two.” 

“What happened to your mum?” Heather asked. “Did she go to Africa like my first dad did?” 

Paul didn’t like to talk about his mother very much. John had been the one who felt the need to let everyone know all about his dead parent, and Paul had let him. He didn’t feel the need to discuss such things with anyone -- it was really none of their business -- and since John had felt the need to tell anyone he thought had a chance of being a listening ear about his problems, he had been quite content to not borrow trouble by stealing his thunder. He had managed to evade telling Jane and her family anything other than the most cursory of answers. Maybe he should have been more open with them, but he had relished the thought of keeping it close to his chest. 

This was different, though. Heather was different. She and Linda both were. 

He downed the rest of the glass, before he dared to trust his voice enough to speak. “Can you top me off, Rich?” 

“Sure, mate,” Ringo said, and he grabbed Paul’s glass. “Just be a mo.” 

With Ringo temporarily occupied, Paul returned his attention to Heather. She was his daughter, and she deserved to know about what had happened to her grandmother, regardless of whether or not he particularly wanted to talk about it with anyone. 

“My mum, she died,” Paul told her quietly, and he heard the catch in his own voice. He hoped Heather didn’t notice. “We didn’t even know she was sick. One day she went into hospital, and she never came home. They knew that she was doing quite poorly, but they thought that Uncle Mike and I were too young to be kept informed. Maybe they were right,” he said after a moment. “I don’t really know.” 

“Why was she sick?” 

Paul scrubbed his face with his hand before he responded. “Yeah, uh, she had cancer. She ignored it at first, thought it would go away. It didn’t, and they couldn’t really treat it, so she died.” He let out a quiet sigh. “I wish I had the answers for you, Het, because, truth be told, I don’t know. I don’t know if it would have happened regardless, or if she could have gotten better had she told her coworkers at the surgery…I could go mad trying to fathom out all of the possibilities, but the truth of it is, what difference would it make? I wish she was still, you know, here, so she could meet you and your mum and get to know you and stuff.” He tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“Do you think she would have liked us? Me and Mum?”

“Yeah, Het, I think she’d have loved you,” he assured her. “I know that she would have, because I love you, and my mum wouldn’t have not loved someone whom I loved.” 

“I love you too, Daddy.” 

“I know that you do,” he said, and he managed to give her a smile. “Did that answer your question?” 

She nodded. “So do I have to call Angie Grandma then?” 

“I don’t give a bloody shit what you call her,” he admitted. “Tell her to sod off for all I care.” 

“Paul!” Ringo protested. 

“What?” He said. “I don’t like her. She’s not me mum. What do I care what Heather calls her?” 

“I’m just confused,” Heather said, as she shifted so that she was sat on his lap. She looked up at him, her fringe falling over her eyes. “You don’t want me to call her that, but she told me that I had to. Why?” 

“I didn’t know that she said that,” he admitted. “I’ll tell her that she was out of line. She can’t bloody well give you commands like that. You’re my daughter. Not hers. The only people who can demand that you do things that are inconsequential are me and your mum. Other people can tell you not to go running amuck in the carriageway, or something of actual importance, they have  _ no right _ to dictate what you call them. She isn’t your grandmother. She has to be taking the piss.” 

“But Grandpa Jim is still my grandpa, right, Daddy?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, luv, don’t question that. He’s my dad, so he’s your grandfather. Angie is some woman that he got married to after Uncle Mike and I had already left home. She’s not me mum, and she’s not even me stepmum. I mean, in a technical sense she is,” he allowed. “But she’s not like Uncle Ringo’s stepdad, who’s been in his life for quite a long time. If Zak and Jason call him Granddad, that makes sense, because that’s the type of relationship that Ringo’s got with him.” 

He leaned back and lit up a smoke, inhaling it deeply before he trusted himself to speak. 

“Remember how I told you that there were people in me own family who looked at me funny like? That they only saw Beatle Paul, and not me as the person I still am?”

Heather nodded. “But that’s silly, Daddy. You’re my dad, and you’re not  _ just _ a Beatle.”

“I know, luv, but that’s how some people are,” he said, and he sighed. “They look at me and they see pound signs. I don’t know conclusively if Angie is one of those people,” he admitted. “Me cousins knew her and they introduced her to me dad. Maybe she really does love him. Who knows. I don’t have a problem with Ruth. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to call her your grandmother. That’s all.” 

“She said that I had to.” 

“Did she?” Paul asked her. She nodded. “I’ll deal with her. She won’t say that to you again.” 

“What’s the difference between that and her calling me Uncle Ringo?” Ringo asked. He sounded genuinely confused. 

“Well, mate, you want know what the difference is? The difference is that I like you. I don’t mind you being around my daughter. You didn’t force Heather to call you that.” 

“I would never have.” 

“I know,” he said. “That’s what the difference is between the two of you. Seems to me that Angie has.” 

There was a knock at the door, which he’d left ajar, and he glanced over at it. Linda stood in the doorframe, her feet bare and her hair ruffled by the fact that she’d fallen asleep on the couch. 

“Hullo, darling,” he said to her, and he motioned for her to come in. “Heather told me that you were sleeping. I’m sorry if we woke you.” 

Linda entered the room. “No, don’t apologise, baby,” she said. “I’m sorry that I fell asleep, I was just so tired all of a sudden…” She trailed off. “She hasn’t been bothering you, has she?” 

Paul shook his head. “No, she hasn’t been a bother,” he told her. “Come ead, sit with us,” he encouraged. “You’d like that, yeah, Hettie? If Mummy squashed in with us?”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “George hasn’t wanted to be a Beatle since 66,” Paul added. “He’s not going to want me to come into the studio and say that I’d changed me mind on wanting a break from ‘im.” He took a drag of his cigarette. “He says he’s got three records worth of songs on his own? He can prove it. I could handle the comments, it’s the fact that he and Yoko conspired to make John proposition me when we were in India that I have a problem with! It’s like he doesn’t correlate the fact that that debacle essentially led us here.” 

“Sit with us, Mummy,” Heather chimed in, and Linda decided that joining the two of them on the chair did indeed sound rather nice. She was practically dead on her feet, and had really only forced herself to get off the couch because Heather hadn’t been there when she’d woken. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stay with you,” she added. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You didn’t scare me, sweetie,” she assured her, and she sat down on the chair beside Paul. She swung her legs up onto his lap. “You don’t have to apologise.”

Heather made fast work of sprawling across her legs. “I know that I don’t  _ have _ to, Mummy. I just didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“Were you having a good time with your dad and Uncle Ringo?” She asked her. “I’m sorry that I fell asleep,” she told Ringo. “It wasn’t my intention.” 

“You don’t have to apologise, Linda,” he told her, and he offered her a smile. “I understand that dealing with John and his woman of the hour can be rather tiring indeed.” He shook his head. “I don’t blame you for needing to have a kip.” 

Paul looped his arm around her. “I thought you said to me that I didn’t need to be apologising for being tired?” He kissed her temple. 

“I did say that,” she said. “You don’t need to.” 

“Well, if it’s allowed for me, why are you apologising when it’s you that’s knackered?”

“I--I don’t know, really,” she admitted. “I guess you’re right.” 

“We were just discussing the fight that George and Pattie are having,” Paul told her. “It seems that Pattie has recently discovered the interesting way that George interprets his marriage vows.”

“What way is that?” Linda asked. 

“Seems that he doesn’t believe in marital fidelity,” Ringo told her. “She came into the studio and started ranting and raving. I decided that I had done my part for the day, and came here.” 

Linda took a sip of Paul’s drink. “I just don’t get it,” she said. “He’s married. It’s not appropriate to be shagging everyone he comes across just because it helps him, what, feel like he’s a real man, or whatever?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve sowed my wild oats. I don’t feel the need to cheapen my marriage by continuing to do so. Isn’t that right, honey?” 

“Right, honey,” Paul agreed, and she smiled up at him as he tightened his hold on her. “I’ve got what I want right here. I don’t want to jeopardise that for anything.” 

“I know that you do,” she said. “Why do you think that I’m marrying you?” 

Paul smirked. “Because you love me?” 

“Of course I love you,” she said. “I love you, and I know that you love us.” 

Heather and Linda would always be a packaged deal, and Paul had been the one who’d fallen in love with that package. Linda loved him for it every day. 

“How long do you reckon we’ll be on break for?” Ringo interjected. “I mean, because me role in the Sellers’ picture isn’t very large, and I don’t need more than a couple of months to work me way through it. I could be back in the studio by February.”

“It will be longer than that,” Paul said, and Linda noticed a slight edge to his tone. “John needs more than a couple of months to get better. Healing is going to be a process for him, even if he’s been released from hospital I don’t want him in the studio until at least March, preferably April. Do you really think that two months is enough to get George to stop being at my throat? He’s obnoxious. Let’s let him record his bloody solo record how he wants to, you can probably even play drums on it, and then when he’s done getting  _ that _ out of his system, John will hopefully be feeling better and then we can talk about recording again.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

“I haven’t quite sorted it out yet,” he said. “Really I just want to spend time with me babies. Just be a little family together. Go on a few trips, maybe? I dunno. I just want to spend time with my girls and get to enjoy ourselves, you know?” 

“Maybe you and Maureen could come with us on one of the trips?” Linda suggested to Ringo. “I think that the kids would enjoy that, yeah? They get on, and it will probably be good for the two of you to get away for a bit as well.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“What do you think, Paul?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I think it’d be a nice break.” Linda watched as he ruffled Heather’s hair. “What do you think, duck?” 

“I like Zak and Jason,” she told him. “Is their mum going to make fun of me and how I talk?” 

“Good question,” Paul told her. “What do you think the answer is, Ringo?” 

“Maureen wouldn’t do that,” he told him. “She’s not going to make fun of a child, Paul. Just because Cyn did doesn’t mean that Mo’d follow suit.” 

“Well, you can’t exactly blame Heather for being nervous,” he said. “Can you?” 

Ringo shook his head. “Of course I can’t.”

“She pissed me off,” Paul said, and Linda made note of the heat in his tone. “After all I did for her, trying me best to keep her wanker of a husband in line? Taking time out of my life to do things with Julian because I knew that John couldn’t be arsed to? You’d have thought that was worth something?” He shook his head. “I don’t even know what her problem is,” he said. “If I knew, I’d try to fix it. I get that she’s angry at John, but why’s she blaming me for any of it? If I had it my way do you think that John would be sat in the Priory resisting any and all attempts at improving himself?” 

“Well, we could always get him out of there,” Ringo said in response. 

Linda gaped at him. “John isn’t a fourth of the way done with his programme,” she told him, unable to hide the disbelief in her tone. “What good would getting him out of the Priory do? He’d end up worse than he already was.” 

“Not to mention the fact that his hospitalisation is keeping him from being charged with offences connected to that horrible woman,” Paul said. “The last thing we need is him implicating himself in that case. I don’t care if it was his junk that was in her. He isn’t allowed out of hospital until she’s been dealt with.”

“We’d be able to record--”   
  


“Look,” Paul said. “If you want to record, mate, I’m more than happy to do a record with you. It’s nothing personal. It’s George and John I don’t want to be around right now.” 

“George? Why?” 

“He still hasn’t apologised for those comments he made at the end of your last recording session,” Linda said. “Surely you can see why Paul and I would be upset about that? I mean, honestly, they were beyond the pale.”

“George hasn’t wanted to be a Beatle since 66,” Paul added. “He’s not going to want me to come into the studio and say that I’d changed me mind on wanting a break from ‘im.” He took a drag of his cigarette. “He says he’s got three records worth of songs on his own? He can prove it. I could handle the comments, it’s the fact that he and Yoko conspired to make John proposition me when we were in India that I have a problem with! It’s like he doesn’t correlate the fact that that debacle essentially led us here.” 

“Don’t be sad, Daddy,” Heather said, her tone gentle, and Linda smiled at the sight of their daughter wrapping her arms around him. 

“Since 66?” Ringo demanded. “What are you talking about?” 

“Ask ‘im,” he said. “All he cares about is that bloody sitar, and banging any bird that strays in his path.” 

Paul’s attention switched to Heather. “I’m not sad, poppet, I’m just disappointed.” 

“Because he’s hitting the birds? That’s not very nice. What did they do? Did they wake him up too early?” 

“He’s not very well behaved, Hettie,” he said. “I know that he gave you those biscuits, but, really. He’s a bit of a nuisance.” 

“Why would he hit birds?” 

“Daddy was being crude,” Linda told her, taking pity on the child. “Banging means something different. George is behaving inappropriately, that’s all.” 

“If he’d wanting out when we were done touring,” Ringo said, a confused expression on his face. “Why didn’t he say anything to us? It’s been two years!”

“You know why,” Paul said. “He’s worth more when it’s the four of us. He knows that, and he wants the money. Would you know that I’ve never been treated worse than I’ve been treated by the person who’s only in the band  _ because  _ of me?” He shook his head. “God, he can be such a wanker. How is the mixing going? I mean, besides the interruption from Mrs. Harrison.” 

“I think it’s going okay,” he told him. “Are you sure you don’t want to come and check it yourself?” 

Paul shook his head. Linda arched a brow. “You don’t, honey?” 

“Cor, Lin, what’d be the point?” He asked. “Whatever I’d say would be the wrong thing, and who cares at this point? It’s a bloody Beatles record. If it’s brilliant, people will buy it, and if it’s shite, people will buy it. I don’t want to go into that fucking studio until certain people in there stop taking advantage of me, or until I stop dreading the thought every time I start to consider it.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Every time I think about sucking it up and getting on with it, it just makes me angry. And I hate it. I don’t want to be bloody angry all the time. Not when I have my two girls to come home to.” He ducked his head down and gave her a kiss. “I love you, baby. I don’t want to be scaring you, or scaring Heather, not over something so bloody daft. It’s not like we’re hurting for money.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel, I don’t see why you shouldn’t leave things in their capable hands,” she admitted. “I like having you home, you know that?” 

“Me too,” Heather squealed. “You’re going to be home all the time?” 

“Well, I’m not going to go to the studio,” he said. “I hope to spend all me time with you and your mum.” 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mummy’s okay,” he promised her, and he scooped her up and settled her on the bed between him and Linda. “She’s just tired, luv, that’s all.” He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “I know that you worry a lot about your mum,” he told her softly, focusing his attention entirely on her. “Are you worried about her now?” 
> 
> Heather nodded. “I don’t want her to be sick, or anything like that,” she said. “Do you think she is?” 
> 
> He shook his head. “No, I don’t think that,” he said softly. “I would tell you if I was worried about that. I think that she’s just been having to adjust to a lot of things since you two moved here to live with me,” he said, in an attempt to explain. “Sort of like how you’ve been having a rough go of things?”

The farmhouse at Campbeltown was quaint and rustic, but Linda had fallen in love with High Park farm from the moment that she’d laid eyes on it. Paul had brought her to the property in the hopes of indulging her desire to go out and get lost, and had expected her to be horrified by its state, which was one of utter disrepair. Jane had always hated the farm. He didn’t have the heart to have blamed her for hating the farmhouse itself, which had lacked certain amenities such as a floor, and a working stove, among other slight issues, but she had been against the thought of escaping the bustle of London for time away in Kintyre. Holidays were all well and good for her, of course, but he was relatively certain that she enjoyed fancy meals and the comforts of a hotel over getting back to basics and roughing it on a working farm. Which was rather daft, when Paul remembered that it had been with her encouragement that he’d even purchased the place. 

Linda had adored the farm from the moment that she’d set eyes on it, and she had convinced him that upgrading the property to make it liveable was a smart thing to do, especially once she had started mentioning her desire to eventually visit with Heather. 

He hadn’t met Heather yet, though he’d spoken to her on the telephone. She’d been in America while they’d been in Briton, and he knew that it was important to Linda that they’d both been sure of their relationship before they’d been introduced, and how it was important to her that it be done in their territory, rather than his. He’d been so grateful that Heather had taken to him, though their initial encounter had been a bit rocky. 

The farmhouse now had some proper insulation and a way to heat it, some flooring that wasn’t dirt, and a working cooker. There wasn’t an awful lot of furniture in it, but he kind of liked that. In spite of the heating, it was awfully cold in Scotland, and Paul was grateful that they had installed a giant bed for the three of them to cuddle in. 

He was sure that the rest of the furniture would eventually come, but, for now, it would do. 

The best part of all was that they had managed to dodge Ringo, having decided to leave after Paul had approved the acetate for the new record, and after Linda had had an appointment at the doctor’s surgery. Paul didn’t entirely know what that was about, but she had insisted that she was feeling fine, so he had assumed it was just a general checkup. 

Sod London, was how he felt about it, and he also could be convinced to sod the record, and even sod the band itself entirely. All he wanted to do was be with Linda and Heather. He didn’t want to think about contractual obligations. No one else could ever be arsed to. Why should he? 

No, it was time for his family to come first. 

Heather and Linda were so important to him, and it rankled him that none of his mates could bother to see that. The things that they said about Linda were bloody awful, and they were lucky that they hadn’t said them directly to him, because he would have responded unkindly. It was as if people thought that he was available for open season simply because he had fallen in love with an American divorcee who happened to have a child. He loved Linda, and he loved Heather, and she was  _ theirs _ , regardless of what any tests would have said, and regardless of the fact that she’d not likely ever look like him.

Of course, the fact that people thought he and Ruth were biologically related that had once been annoying was now comforting to Paul. He didn’t care if Heather favoured her mother, or even if she looked like Mel, but he knew that being seen as his daughter was important to her. 

That, of course, made it important to him. 

He lifted his head off the pillow to reveal that Linda was still soundly asleep, her mouth half opened, and a glance at Heather revealed that the young girl was still dreaming, which meant that Paul was more than capable of snuggling back down under the covers and getting a little more shut eye. 

He’d been sandwiched between Linda and Heather the entire night, and he really hadn’t minded it. Linda needed her rest, as she seemed even more exhausted than he did, and he felt guilty for that. He hadn’t meant for his stress to rub off on his fiancee and their daughter, but it appeared that it had. 

Anything that made Heather happy suited him. He loved his little girl. 

She shifted closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Hi, Da,” she whispered, her voice thickened from sleep. 

“Hi, duck,” he echoed, and he kissed the top of her head. “You want to go back to sleep, or do you want to get up for the day?” 

“Can we cuddle?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, we can cuddle,” he told her. “That sounds nice.” 

Heather rolled over so that she was facing him, her hair wildly mussed from sleep, and she gave him a kiss. “Morning, Daddy.” 

He grinned. “Morning, darling. Did you sleep well?” 

She nodded. “Uh huh, I like sleeping with you and Mummy. It’s nice. My favourite.” She sat up in bed, and peered over at Linda. “She’s still sleeping?” 

“Yeah, why don’t we let Mum rest?” Paul suggested to her. He patted Linda’s shoulder. “Seems to me that if she’s knackered she may as well have a lie in, yeah? Since we’re on holiday an’ all?” 

Heather nodded. “I just wish she wasn’t sleepy,” she said. “Do you think she’s okay?” 

Paul had his suspicions about why Linda was suddenly so exhausted, but he didn’t dare tell them to Heather and get her excited about what was merely a hunch, and not something that he’d be able to actually confirm. At least, not yet. Linda had mentioned that the doctor was going to be ringing her while they were at the farm, and that she was waiting for some test results, which she’d assured him were nothing problematic. He didn’t know much about what happened when women went to the doctor, but he assumed that if it had been something troubling, she would have let him know. He assumed that she was pregnant. It made sense to him. 

“Mummy’s okay,” he promised her, and he scooped her up and settled her on the bed between him and Linda. “She’s just tired, luv, that’s all.” He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “I know that you worry a lot about your mum,” he told her softly, focusing his attention entirely on her. “Are you worried about her now?” 

Heather nodded. “I don’t want her to be sick, or anything like that,” she said. “Do you think she is?” 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think that,” he said softly. “I would tell you if I was worried about that. I think that she’s just been having to adjust to a lot of things since you two moved here to live with me,” he said, in an attempt to explain. “Sort of like how you’ve been having a rough go of things?”

Heather worried her lower lip. “You think that she’s adjusting to living here too?” 

“Well, yeah,” he said, and he shifted so that he could sit crossed-legged on the bed. “I mean, it’s a big deal to me, what the two of you did, you know? Leaving your lives in America and coming here to live with me, and to be a family with me, I think that was very brave of you, but I know that it was scary. Having to come over on an aeroplane and get to meet all sorts of new people and learn all sorts of new customs? I think that Mum had been hiding her feelings while we were still in London because she was trying to get us to settle into being a family. Now that she’s able to relax, she’s taking advantage. Does that make sense to you?” 

After a moment, Heather nodded. “Can I play in the garden with Martha?”

“Not by yourself,” he said hastily. “And not in that, either. You’ve got to put on your thermals, and your snowsuit.” 

Was it overkill? Yes. But Paul didn’t want Heather catching a chill. 

“Will you come with me?” 

“Of course I will,” he told her, and he crawled out of bed, making sure that Linda was still tucked in snuggly. “Just give me a mo, yeah? I need to get myself sorted.” He pressed a kiss to Linda’s cheek. “Why don’t you go get yourself dressed while you’re waiting, yeah?”   
  


“Okay,” she said, and she shot him a half smile. “Does Martha need to get dressed, too?” 

“Martha’s got herself a fur coat,” he told her. “That keeps her plenty warm.” 

Once Paul sorted himself out in the bathroom (another thing that Linda had insisted had to be done before they lived in the farmhouse), he headed back out to the main portion of the farmhouse. He grabbed his jumper from where he’d left it the night before and jammed it over his head, choosing speed in dressing himself over any attempts at being fashionable or neat, and he shoved on a pair of corduroy trousers. Heather had managed to dress herself for the most part, and he reached over to her and smoothed out her hair. 

“You want me to do up your snowsuit, kitten?” Paul asked her. “Or do you want to do it yourself?” 

Heather was insistent on being as fiercely independent as possible, a trait that he and Linda did their best to encourage in the girl, and he was more than willing to allow her to do up the snowsuit on her own, if she wanted to, but at the same time, he was more than willing to help her. He liked doing that sort of stuff, you know, helping her out. She was his daughter, and he wanted to make sure that he was doing right by her. 

“You do it, Daddy,” Heather said after a moment of thought. “Please?” 

“Course I’ll do it,” he told her. He knelt down on the floor so that he was on her level, and he zipped up the snowsuit with ease. “There you go, duckie,” he said, and he gave her a kiss. “Want me to help you put on your boots?” 

Heather nodded. 

“Go on, then, sit on the edge of the bed,” he said in an encouraging tone, and he watched as she did so, before pulling himself to a standing position and crossing the room to where her boots had been placed the previous evening. He returned to her as quickly as possible, the foggy-headedness he’d felt from being abruptly woken slowly lifting. “Feet up,” he instructed, pleased when she did, and he slipped the boots on, fastening them before he tugged her off the bed. “That’s a good lass.” 

“You need to put your boots on too,” Heather told him. “You can’t go out in the cold like that. Mummy would be cross at you.” 

Paul grinned at her. She grinned back. “Daddy’s so silly, isn’t he, luv? Thank goodness that I have you to remind me of the importance of wearing my boots.” 

“And your jacket,” she reminded him. “I like your jacket,” she added. “It’s so warm and cuddly. Can I get it for you?” 

“That’d be a great help, Hettie,” he told her, as he put on his boots. Linda remained soundly asleep. “Go on, eh? I think that it snowed out last night.” 

Paul knew that it had snowed out the previous evening. The snow had started falling after Heather had tired herself out and been tucked into bed, and he had no idea if there was going to be any to be found when they went outside together with Martha, so he didn’t want to tell Heather that it had and leave her in disappointment. 

“Is it okay if Martha goes out in the snow?” Heather asked him, and she handed him his coat. “Do you think it’ll hurt her?” 

“She’ll be fine,” he promised, and he slipped on his jacket before leaning over and giving her another kiss, this one on the top of her forehead. “If she really doesn’t like it, she can come back in and be with mum, okay?” 

“Okay,” she said. She glanced over at Linda. “I hope that she wakes up soon, Da. I want to build snowmen!”

“Well, we can build one together, you know,” he offered, feeling rather shy. “You’re going to have to teach me because it’s been quite awhile since I’ve made a snowman, but I want to make them with you.” 

Paul had truthfully never made a snowman before. It wasn’t something that had been done when he was a child. But Heather seemed to want to do it with him, so he certainly wasn’t going to discourage her.

He leaned over and kissed Linda’s cheek. She stirred. “Don’t mind us, luv,” he whispered to her. “We’ve just gone outside. You don’t need to worry about having a lie in.” He then refocused his attention on Heather. “Are you ready to go out?” 

She nodded, and she slipped her hand into his. “I’m ready, and so’s Martha. Look, Da. She’s already by the door.” 

“Come ead, then,” he said. “We’ll go out now, and if Mum doesn’t come out and join us, by the time we’re sorted, we’ll make her a brekky in bed.” He squeezed her hand. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds brilliant,” she said. “I really want to.” 

“Cor. Me too.” 

* * *

  
  


The doctor had telephoned with the results that Linda had truthfully been expecting shortly after Paul had brought Heather outside, and she was grateful for the privacy his decision had afforded her. The farmhouse was cozy, and she loved it, but she certainly wasn’t going to get much space to have a private conversation if her fiance and daughter were also in the house. She was going to tell Paul the good news, of course. She just needed a moment to process it. 

Though she’d gone off the pill, it wasn’t as if the pregnancy had been entirely planned. She and Paul had decided that eschewing birth control and putting caution in the wind was the route to take, and if it had ended up in her falling pregnant, it ended up in her falling pregnant. They weren’t planning, but they weren’t against it. 

It wasn’t as if the positive result had left her feeling unhappy. Far from it. Seeing Paul with Heather made Linda realise how great a father he was, and she knew that he would be just as wonderful towards the little one who was on the way. It was just that Heather was five, and she commanded attention, and Linda knew that she would have tried to demand explanations for what the phone call was about, the second she’d hung up the phone. Which was normal. She was only a child, and Linda didn’t want to deny her her natural instincts of curiosity. She was still grateful that Paul had had the presence of mind to usher her out of the house. 

She just hoped that he’d be happy about the baby. He’d been so stressed about everything lately that she was somewhat leery to put another thing on his plate, even though he had insisted that their life together was about the only stressless aspect of his current existence. Linda believed that. 

She knew that Heather wanted to be a big sister, and she was looking forward to telling her that her dreams were coming true, but she wanted to get a moment with Paul alone, first. He deserved it. 

She instinctively pressed her hand to her abdomen, well aware that there was nothing much there to feel, but wanting to acknowledge the baby inside of her, nonetheless, and she headed into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She poured one for Paul, as well. Heather was young, she could handle to the cold. Despite Paul’s claims to the contrary, she was rather certain that he was bound to be freezing. 

She zipped up her jacket and opened the door, taking a moment to take in the sight of Paul encouraging Heather to chase Martha around the garden. 

“Do you have a moment?” Linda called out to him. Heather offered her a wave, before returning her attention to the dog. Paul nodded. “Come here, then, it’s all right. They’re fine.” 

Linda figured that Heather and Martha would be able to entertain themselves while she spoke to Paul. The garden was fenced in, and they weren’t that far from them. Paul seemed to agree, as he headed over in her direction. 

It had snowed the night before, and fairly heavily, judging by the fact that Paul and Heather had managed to make three snowmen out of it, but she sat down on the stoop anyways, pleased when Paul sat down beside her. 

“Have you, uh, have you heard back from the doctor?” He asked her, and he leaned in and gave her a kiss. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, and she placed the cups of tea on the ground in front of them, taking his hand in hers. “I have heard back from the doctor,” she told him. “About the tests I had done.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, and he ducked his head so that it rested on her shoulder. “You have? Is everything okay? You’re not ill, or anything?”

“Everything’s fine,” she promised. “No, darling, I’m not ill. I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.” 

“You’re pregnant?” Paul asked, and Linda could hear the excitement in his tone, which took a major weight off her shoulders. “We’re having a baby?” 

“Yeah, honey, we’re having a baby.” She guided their hands to her middle. “I’m sorry, I know that it’s so sudden, and--”

“Why are you sorry?” Paul asked her. “I’m not.” 

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” 

She felt him kiss her neck. “No, baby, I’ve been hoping this would happen,” he murmured. “I mean, you’ve gone off the pill, yeah? Figured we’d be making our Heather’s wish come true sooner rather than later. I don’t think that’s too soon.” She felt him wrap his arm around her. “What about you? Are you okay with it?”

Linda nodded. “Yeah, Papa. Of course I’m happy. We’re going to have a baby.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is all new to me, cos, y’know, I wasn’t lucky enough to be with your mum when she was expecting your big sister. I wish that I had been. There for her. I mean, I don’t know what to expect or how to act or any of this, but I promise you that I’m going to be here with your mum every step of the way. Cos, y’know that I love you, right? I mean, I’m your dad, of course I love you, but I’m so excited that you’re inside of mum and I just hope that you know that, and that Mum knows it too.” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry if I’ve been in foul mood, baby,” he added, diverting his attention from the baby that was on the way back to Linda. “I really am happy about the sprog.” 

Paul wrapped his arm around Linda’s shoulders, and he tugged her closer to him, his other hand still pressed to her abdomen, where he knew that the baby lay beneath. He knew that Linda wasn’t far enough along for there to be any visible signs of the life that they’d created within her, of course, but he didn’t think that she’d mind his hand remaining where she’d placed it. 

“Heather’s been worried about you, you know,” he told her softly. Heather was still distracted by Martha, but who knew how long the dog would hold her attention, especially since he wasn’t with them, and Linda was now awake. “You reckon we ought to tell her now? Or do you want to wait a little?” 

“I want her to know,” she said, and she glanced up at him. “It seems wrong to keep it from her, doesn’t it? She’s our daughter, the baby’s going to be her little brother or sister. Why should we hide it from her?” 

“I don’t want to hide it from her,” Paul assured her. He had little desire to hide things from Heather, especially when they involved the baby that she had insisted upon wanting. “She’d probably figure us out sooner rather than later, anyroad,” he said. “I want her involved from the start.” 

Linda grinned up at him. “Why don’t we build a snowbaby?” 

“What?” 

“I mean, the two of you made three, didn’t you? One for each of us? So we ought to make a fourth, for the little one on the way, see if she notices. If she doesn’t notice, we’ll tell her.” 

Heather had been particularly insistent that they make three snowmen, and Paul hadn’t done much questioning of the child, content to let her take the lead on an activity he’d never done before. He was somewhat ashamed that he hadn’t realised that Heather had done so to represent the three of them, and not on a mere lark. He really should have been able to figure that out. 

“You’d help me with the snowbaby?” Paul asked her, his eyes wide with mirth. “Lin?” 

“Of course I’ll help you,” she said. “Can we stay up here forever?” 

“You really like it here?” He asked, as he took a sip of the tea she’d prepared him. “What’s so special about it?” 

“I like it because it’s just us, and you can relax, and we don’t have to deal with the stressors of being at home in London,” she told him, and he let out a content sigh as he felt her fingers start to massage his scalp. “You’ve been so much happier since we’ve been here. Surely you’ve noticed that. It’s not just you that’s happier,” she added. “Heather’s more relaxed as well. She likes being here in the country.” 

Paul sat back and watched as Heather and Martha romped in the snow, a pleased expression having graced his features. There was something almost magical about seeing them tear after each other as if they didn’t have a care in the world. He loved the sight of it. 

He let out a sigh. “As much as I’d love to stay forever,” he said softly. “You know that would be impossible. We have to be able to get down to London to make sure you and the little mite are doing okay,” he pointed out. “Not to mention the fact that my dad would be horribly offended if we skived off the family Christmas.” He rolled his eyes. “Evidently he wants to show off his new granddaughter to everyone, even if it means that I have to spend the holiday with that horrid woman.” 

“What horrid woman?” Linda asked. “Who are you talking about?” 

“Angela,” he spat. “I can’t stand her, telling Heather that rubbish about her being required to consider her her grandmother. They’ve barely been married for four years, Lin. She’s not me mum, and I don’t fancy replacing me mum with her, not even for the role as Heather’s grandmother.” 

“Have you spoken to her about this?” 

“Who?” Paul asked, his fingers drifting down her side. “Angie? Or our daughter? Because Heath has told me that she doesn’t like it,” he said. “She said that she’s forcing it on her, and I won’t stand for that. I don’t want Heather to feel like she has to do things, just because someone older than her opens their gob and the shite comes out.” He rolled his eyes. “If she didn’t want to call me dad, I wouldn’t make her,” he added, as he pulled his cigarettes out of his coat pocket and lit one. “Yeah, I think it’s brilliant that she wants me to be her dad, but she’s the one who gets to decide that, not me. So to hear that Angie thinks that she deserves to be our daughter’s grandmother simply by virtue of her being my dad’s wife--” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lin, I think that’s bullshit. I never encouraged that type of relationship and I never will.” 

“No, Paul, don’t apologise,” she insisted. “If you don’t want Heather to call Angie her grandmother, that’s fine with me. I’ll support you. I don’t like it when she calls Monique that, either, you know? I understand.” 

“Heather doesn’t want that,” he said. “She’s confused about it.” 

“Well, then, we’ll talk to her,” she said. “It’s as simple as that. Heather doesn’t want that, you don’t want it, I don’t really care what your stepmother wants.” She took a drag from his cigarette. “I don’t much care for people telling my daughter what to do, what to say, how to feel.” 

“I know.” Paul shook his head. “I wish she’d said something sooner, before I’d agreed to go. I would have blown it off.” He shrugged. “Why don’t we get to work building our new addition, yeah?” 

Linda nodded in agreement, and he pushed himself to a standing position and held his hand out for her. He loved her so much. 

“Have you ever built a snowman before today?” Linda asked him, a hint of amusement in her tone. “Or is this all new to you?” 

“It’s all new to me, baby,” he confirmed. “But Het and me, we had a good time. She showed me how to do them, you know, and she’s a very good instructor. She must have learnt from the best.”

“Mmm,” Linda hummed noncommittally. “And who might the best be?”

“You,” he told her. “Her mummy.” Paul wrapped his arms around Linda, and he kissed the top of her head. “Her mummy, and this little McCartney’s mummy as well.” 

“You are happy, right?” 

“Yeah, Lin,” he said, and he squeezed her shoulders, before he released her, and knelt down so that he could address the little one that was growing inside of her. “Uh, hi in there, it’s me, your daddy,” he said, as he pressed his ear to her abdomen. 

“This is all new to me, cos, y’know, I wasn’t lucky enough to be with your mum when she was expecting your big sister. I wish that I had been. There for her. I mean, I don’t know what to expect or how to act or any of this, but I promise you that I’m going to be here with your mum every step of the way. Cos, y’know that I love you, right? I mean, I’m your dad, of course I love you, but I’m so excited that you’re inside of mum and I just hope that you know that, and that Mum knows it too.” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry if I’ve been in foul mood, baby,” he added, diverting his attention from the baby that was on the way back to Linda. “I really am happy about the sprog.” 

Paul stood, the wet patches from the snow visible on his trousers, and he cupped Linda’s face in his hands, drawing her to him so that he could kiss her. 

“Do you mean that?” She asked, once they pulled apart from each other so they could catch their breaths. “What you said to the baby?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I meant every word,” he said. “You and Heather deserved better than what you got with him. He’s a prick. And this is all new to me, and yeah, I’m fucking terrified that I’m going to do something wrong, but I love you, Linda. I meant it when I said that I was all in with you and Heather, and I’m not going to stop being all in because there’s a baby involved.” He pecked her on the lips. “Now, c’mon, let’s make the snowbaby before Hettie and Martha decide they want to join us.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Chasing Martha around the snow covered paddock had been great fun for Heather at first, and she had done so for what felt like hours, but Martha had seemed to grow bored of the activity, and therefore, so had she. Heather would have hated to force Martha to play with her if she didn’t want to. She loved the sheepdog so much. “Are you hungry, Martha?” She asked her curiously. “Did you have breakfast yet?” 

Heather knew that Martha was a dog and that she couldn’t really respond to her, but she didn’t want to be  _ rude _ to her either. Mum said that animals had feelings, just like people. 

Plus, she herself was hungry. She hoped that Mum was up so that they could have breakfast. 

Martha bounded in the direction of the snow family that she and her dad had made earlier, and she dutifully followed her, pleased to see that her mother had gotten out of bed and was standing there with her dad. 

She’d been worried that she was getting sick, so it was a relief for her to see that Linda was up and about. 

“Mummy,” she shrieked, picking up her speed so that she could join the two of them. “Do you like the snow people that we did? Daddy and I worked so hard on them.” 

Martha had settled at the base of her parents’ feet, and she smiled at the dog, before she concentrated on launching herself against her mum’s legs, squeezing her in a tight hug. 

“Hi, darling girl,” Mum said in response to her question, and Heather felt her rub her back as she held onto her. “I did see them, you must have had fun showing Daddy how to make them.”

She nodded. “So much fun,” she said. “He’s the best daddy ever. In the whole world.” 

“I know,” she agreed. “We had to add something on to your snow family, though. Daddy and I have something to tell you.” 

“What is it?” Heather asked, and she glanced up at both her parents. “Are you okay, Mum?” 

“Mummy’s brilliant,” Daddy told her, and he squatted down so that he was the same size as her. “It’s nothing bad, duck. Mummy and I have just made you a big sister. Mummy’s pregnant.” 

“That’s why I’ve been feeling so poorly in the mornings,” Mum added, and Heather noticed her smiling down at Dad. “Are you okay with that?” 

“When’s the baby going to be here?” 

Dad grinned at her. “Not for a while, kitten,” he said. “The little one’s got to take time to grow in mummy, y’know? It has to be big and strong before it comes out to meet us.” 

“How long?” 

“Oh, I reckon August, at some point,” Mum told her. “Give you and Daddy lots of time to pamper me, don’t you think?” 

“That’s a long time,” Heather pointed out. “How many months?” 

“Eight,” Dad told her. “We can mark each day off on a calendar, if you’d like that.” 

Heather would like that, but she didn’t want to upset her Mum and Dad by causing them to do extra work because of her. She knew that Daddy didn’t like being the only one who did work at his job, and she didn’t want to cause him to have to do more work than he wanted to do at home, all because she wanted a calendar to mark off dates. 

“You’d want to help me with it?” She asked him. “I don’t want you to do it if you’re too busy.” 

“Busy? With what?” 

“Your job,” she said. “Aren’t you going to have to go back to it eventually?”

“Ah, yeah, about that,” he said, and she watched as he pawed at his beard. “How would you feel if I took some time off and spent it with you and Mummy?”

“I’d like that,” she said. “I like it when we’re all home together.” 

He grinned at her. “Yeah, I know you do,” he said. “I like it too. You know that, right?” 

Heather nodded. “I know, Da.” 

“So, we can do whatever you want, y’know? Get you a calendar, you can help me fix this place up, whatever you want. I don’t have to worry about going back to the studio for awhile, or even going back to London. The only thing we have to do is go to Chesire for the Christmas hols, and--”   
  


“Will Uncle Mike be there?” Heather asked him, and she allowed him to pull her off of her mother and lift her up into his arms. 

“Yeah, everyone will be there,” he said to her. “And, your mum and I will talk to Angie, we’re gonna sort her out. Make sure she knows that you don’t have to call her Grandma. Okay?”   
  


Heather kissed him on the cheek. “Okay, Da,” she agreed. “I can’t wait for Christmas.” She leaned her head against his chest. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Father Christmas is going to come,” she reminded him. “You promised me that he’d know where to find us.”

“You’re right, I did promise that, didn’t I?” Dad asked, and she nodded. “You don’t have to worry about that, Hettie. He’s going to bring you pressies.”

“And we get to tell everyone about the baby, right?” She pressed. 

Mum and Dad exchanged a glance. “Daddy and I need to talk about that, luv,” Mummy told her. “We might tell them, we might not. We haven’t decided yet.” 

“It’s okay that I know, right?” She asked. “You don’t think the baby will be mad that you told me?” 

“Why would the baby be mad?” Dad asked her. “You’re the baby’s big sister. That makes you so special to the baby.” 

Heather beamed. She liked the thought of being special to the baby, even though she knew that it would be a rather long time before the baby decided to come. She reckoned that that would give her loads of time to show the baby how much she loved it. 

“I want to be the best big sister ever,” she declared, and she snuggled close to him. He held her tightly. “Do you think that I will be?”

“Of course I think that you will be,” he told her. “Can I tell you a secret, Hettie? I’ve already told Mum.” 

She nodded. “What is it, Da?” 

“I’m really nervous about this part of being a dad,” he said. “I mean, I’m pretty okay with the other aspects, because we have you, and all, but I’ve never been around someone who’s pregnant before. Not really. So it’s all new and scary to me, in a way. So I was thinking that, if you wanted to, we could learn how to help your mum together, and maybe we’d be less scared?” 

Heather didn’t want to admit that she was scared, but it was okay for Dad to admit that he was, so she nodded. “Maybe the baby’s hungry?” She suggested. 

Heather  _ was _ hungry after all, so it made sense to her that if she was hungry, the baby might be. 

“You reckon the baby might be hungry?” Dad echoed. “I dunno, but I know that I am.”

“You two didn’t have breakfast?” Mum asked him. “Paul!”

“We didn’t want to wake you up,” he said. “I was afraid that it would, especially if I cooked.” 

“What would have woken me? The smell of the cooking, or the house catching alight?”

Mum was teasing Dad. They both wore matching grins. 

“Whatever made the most destruction,” he told her. “You feel up to making us a spot of brekky?” 

“I feel fine,” she said. “The nausea’s settled.” 

“Why does the baby make you feel sick?” Heather asked. 

“My body’s just getting used to the baby being in there,” she answered. “It’s perfectly normal. I don’t want it to upset you if I have to get sick when we’re all in bed together.” 

“We can still cuddle, right?” 

“Of course we can,” she said. “Cuddling in bed with you and Daddy really makes me cheered up. I think that the baby knows you’re both there. When we get inside, I can show you where the baby is if you want, before I start cooking?”

Heather nodded. She wanted to know where her brother or sister was spending their time. 

“You’ll show Da, too?” 

“Yeah, duck. I’ll show Da.” 

Heather glanced up at her dad. “Will you see where the baby is with me?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course we can.” 

“I want to see the baby, Mum,” Heather said, and she wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck. “I know that we’re not really getting to see the baby,” she added, as Dad started heading in the direction of the stairs that led into the farmhouse, Martha having headed up ahead of them. 

The dog was waiting patiently at the door, and Heather grinned at the sight of her furry friend. 

“You had a good time with Martha, right?” Daddy asked her. “When you were playing chase?” 

She nodded. “She’s the best doggy. She jumped on me and gave me kissies!”

Dad smiled at her. “You liked that, didn’t you?” 

“Yes,” she said. Heather loved Martha, even though she was her dad’s dog, and not her very own. “Do you think that Martha will like the baby?” 

“I reckon that she will,” he said softly. “We’ll have to show her how to behave around the baby, you know, but she’ll love having another playmate around when the baby’s big enough.” 

Martha wagged her tail as they approached, and Heather watched as her mum gave the dog a pat, before she opened the door to the farmhouse, and ushered them all inside. 

Heather loved the farm that her dad had bought back when she was still living in America, even though Daddy had insisted that they still had work to do to get things entirely up to snuff. She didn’t know what that meant, but she knew that she liked the farmhouse how it was. She didn’t want him to change anything.

“Why aren’t the horses staying with us?” She asked, as he put her down on the floor. “Is it really too cold for them?” 

“A bit, duck,” he said. “We can go visit them in Sussex, though, if you want.” 

Heather wanted to very much. “I miss Coconut.” 

“We’ll make plans to do that when we get back to England,” he told her. “Why don’t we get out of these clothes, and then we can settle down with Mum on the settee and get a glimpse of the baby?”

“Okay,” she said. 

“Do you need me to help you?” 

Heather wasn’t a baby, and she didn’t necessarily  _ need _ her dad to help her get out of her snowsuit, but she didn’t mind him helping her, so she nodded. “I just need you to unzip me,” she said. “I can do the rest.” 

“Cor, darling,” he said, and she grinned as he brushed a kiss to her forehead, before he undid the snowsuit’s zipper. “Does that suit you? You’ll be all right if I go and change me trousers? They got all wet in the snow.” 

She giggled. “You’re silly.” 

“Am I silly?” He teased. “I think we’re both silly. Go on. I’ll just be a mo.” 

* * *

Paul had waited until he was absolutely certain that Heather was capable of getting out of her snowsuit on her own before he headed over to the wardrobe in order to put himself to rights. He knew that Heather prided herself on being able to do things on her own, and really hated being thought of as a baby, but she was still his daughter, and he her dad. He wanted to make sure that she was all right. 

He pulled out a dry pair of trousers and shoved down the ones that he had on, taking care to make sure that they ended up in the hamper, and he quickly dressed himself, wanting nothing more to have a feel of Linda’s tummy. 

Of course he knew that there wouldn’t be much to see just yet. The baby was new, and even though Paul hadn’t been intimately acquainted with anyone who was pregnant before, he had still been around people who  _ were _ pregnant. However, his logical side was being won over by the fact that this was his baby, and he was aching to be acquainted with the little sprog. 

Of course, so was Heather. Linda had settled down on the settee and Heather had curled up against her side, thankfully out of her winter clothes. 

He headed over to join them. 

“Am I interrupting the two of you?” Paul asked, a smile blooming on his lips. “Is this top-secret Mummy-Daughter business?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, I don’t have any secrets,” she informed him. “I just wanted to keep Mummy and the baby company.” 

He ruffled her hair. “You’re brilliant, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Heather said. “What about Mum?” 

Paul sat down on Linda’s other side and he stretched his arm out so that he could pull both of them close. “Mum? She’s brilliant too.” He shifted so that he could give Linda a kiss. “You make me so happy, baby.” 

“You make me happy, too,” Linda told him. “Do the two of you want to see the baby?” 

“Yeah, luv, I do,” he said. “What about you, Hettie? You want to see your baby sister or brother?” 

“Uh huh,” she said. “I want to see the baby, Mum. Show us!” 

Heather’s excitement at the fact that Linda was pregnant was inspiring, and Paul gave her a wide smile. 

“You know, this is nice,” he said. “We’ve made a mummy sandwich, haven’t we? That’s the best way to say hullo to the baby, don’t you think?   
  


“The baby’s in the middle,” she said. “We can both feel her.” 

“You think that the baby’s a girl?” Linda asked her. She nodded. “Well, we won’t find out until the baby is born, but I don’t mind you thinking that you’re getting a baby sister.” 

Paul watched as Linda lifted the edge of her jumper to reveal her still-flat abdomen, and he eyed her reverently, aching to touch her tummy, but not wanting to invade her personal space. 

Heather, on the other hand, had no such qualms, and had smashed her face against her, in order to give the baby a kiss. 

“Can I--can I say hi to her?” 

“Of course you can,” Linda said, and she took his hand in hers and pressed them down, the warmth of her skin warming his palm. “What do you think, Hettie?” 

“I like the baby, Mum,” Heather said, once she’d stopped attacking Linda’s stomach with kisses. 

“I reckon that she knows that,” Paul told her. He wasn’t entirely sure that it was possible for the baby to know that, but he wanted to put a pleasant thought in Heather’s head. “I mean, y’know, she has to know that you love her because you’re her big sister. I reckon that she liked when you kissed her.” 

“In a couple of months, she’ll be moving around in there,” Linda chimed in. “You’ll be able to feel her kick and flip and do all sorts of cool things. You did that too.” 

“Did I hurt you, Mummy?” 

“No, not at all,” she said. “It’s perfectly natural.” 

“We’re going to be Mummy’s best helpers this whole time, aren’t we?” Paul asked Heather, as he kept his hand pressed above Linda’s navel. “You want to help me, right, Het?”

“I want to be the best helper ever.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you sure that I’m going to be their real sister? I heard what Uncle George and Auntie Pattie said at your work the day that we left,” she whispered. “Uncle George said that he didn’t care that you were adopting me, that he was never going to agree to them adopting, and having to explain that they had real kids and adopted ones, and…” 
> 
> Paul drew in a deep breath, and he forced himself to centre himself, not wanting the rage that he felt at what Heather had heard George and Pattie arguing over to spill into how he spoke to her, since he wasn’t angry at her in the slightest. He was, however, yet again angry at George, for not having the sense to not have personal conversations of such a nature around his daughter, who was a literal child. 
> 
> “Uncle George can go piss off,” he said, once he was capable of speaking calmly.

“Daddy?” Heather asked, and Paul glanced over at her from his position in front of the stove, where he was currently muddling his way through making porridge. “What are you doing?” 

She padded over to where he stood, her stuffed cat in her arms, and he reached his hand back so that he could pat the top of her head. 

“Making us breakfast,” he told her, pleased when she grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “Well, y’know, I’m trying to, at least.” Paul knew that he wasn’t that great a cook, but he wanted to at least try, even if it meant that they were going to be eating porridge for breakfast, instead of a proper English breakfast. Linda being able to rest was the most important thing. “You want to help me?” 

“How can I?” Heather asked him. “Mummy’s still sleeping.” 

“Yeah,” he said, and he squatted down so that he was on her level. “I know that Mummy’s still sleeping, but that’s okay,” he said. “She wasn’t feeling well last night.” 

Linda had been nauseous most of the night, and Paul had spent the night with her, doing anything that he could do to make her feel better. He was just grateful that her nausea had abated, and that Heather had slept through the worst of her sickness. He knew that she would have worried about her mum. 

Heather wrinkled her nose. “Do you think that she’s okay?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I do. It’s just that, the baby, it’s going to make her feel poorly at times, and sometimes that keeps her up at night, y’know, so, sometimes we have to let her sleep in, and make brekky ourselves. Is that okay?” 

She nodded. “I just wanted to make sure the baby was okay.” 

Paul squeezed her shoulder. “The baby’s fine,” he promised her. “Mum says that it’s normal y’know? The baby makes her feel a bit ill, y’know, but Mummy says that she’ll feel better when the baby gets further along, and she doesn’t feel poorly  _ all _ the time, duckie, just sometimes, y’know, and that’s okay, because we’re gonna be her very special helpers. Do you want to be one?” 

Heather nodded. “I want to help you,” she said, and she wrapped her arms around him. “What are you going to put in the oatmeal?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re not just going to eat it plain, are you?” Heather asked him, and he watched her wrinkled her nose. “Da, come on.”

“Well, I dunno,” he admitted. “I’ve never really had anything in me porridge before. To be honest, Hettie, it’s not like I did much cooking before the two of you came around. I wasn’t very good at eating three meals a day.” 

“Mummy says that breakfast is important,” she said, and she tugged at his hand. “Pick me up,” she demanded. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he said, and he scooped her into his arms. “Mum’s right, you know, brekky is important. I just didn’t take very good care of myself before I met her, that’s all. I slept in all day and worked late at night, so I usually just had takeaways. Curries and the lot.” He kissed her cheek. “What do you want in your porridge?” 

“Strawberry jam,” she said. “It’s so good.” 

“Well, you’re in luck,” he said. “I know for a fact that we’ve got some in the fridge.” 

Heather kept her arms wrapped around his neck as he crossed the kitchen to where the refrigerator stood, and he opened the door and pulled out the requested jam. It was somewhat strange to have working appliances in the farmhouse, and he was still baffled by the fact that Linda insisted that they needed to have a fully stocked fridge and cupboards, but if it made her happy, he was going to do it. 

“There we are, duck,” he said, and he felt her kiss his cheek. “How much do you reckon we add in?” 

“Can we add in the whole pot?” Heather giggled. 

“No, sweetie, I think that would be too much jam, y’know. We can’t go off to the shops when we run out of food here. We’ve kind of escaped from society.” 

“Why?” 

“I just need a break, that’s all,” he admitted. “So I thought that we’d go here for a spell, y’know, to get away from everything that’s been happening back home. It’s been quite stressful, especially with work, and everything. I just figured that we’d come here and we’d be able to relax for awhile, until we go to my dad’s for Christmas.” 

Paul was dreading the holiday. 

“Are we going to spend the night?” 

Paul sighed. “Probably,” he said tiredly. “That’s what Dad wants.” 

“Are you _ sure _ that Father Christmas will find us there?” 

“Of course I’m sure,” he said. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll have a talk with Father Christmas myself.” 

“This is sweet,” Linda interjected, and he glanced over in the direction of her voice. She stood in the entranceway to the kitchen, clad only in one of his pullover jumpers. She had claimed it as a nightshirt when they’d arrived in Scotland. “Are you helping Daddy cook, Heather?” 

Heather nodded. “We’re making...we’re making porridge. That’s what you called it, right, Da?” She glanced up at him, and he nodded. “Yeah, Mum, porridge. With strawberry jam. Do you think that the baby will like that?” 

“I think so,” she told her. “You’re really worried about the baby, aren’t you?”

Heather nodded. “Uh huh.”

“What are you worried about?” Linda asked, and she crossed the room to join them. Paul gave her a quick kiss. “Heather?” 

“The baby makes you not feel well,” she said after a moment. “I don’t understand why. Doesn’t the baby want you to feel okay? Did I do that to you?” 

“That’s just because the baby and I are getting used to each other,” she said. “It only lasts a couple months. And, yes, it happened with you.” 

“Okay,” she whispered. “I just wanted to make sure that you and the baby are okay.” 

“We are,” Linda said. “I promise. This is perfectly normal.” 

“We should say hi to the baby,” Heather told him, and she tugged at his hand. “It’s important, Da.” 

“Of course we can say hi to the baby,” he said softly. If Heather thought that saying hello to her baby sister or brother was important enough to suggest that they do it together, who was he to stop her? Paul loved Heather. “You want to say hi to the baby together?” 

“If it’s okay with Mummy,” she said. Paul could see her appraising Linda with her eyes. “You don’t think that the baby will mind, do you, Mummy?”

“I don’t think that the baby will mind,” Linda said. “Why would the baby mind? You’re their sister.”

“I know, Mum, I just didn’t want to upset the baby,” Heather said. “Are you sure?” 

Paul and Linda exchanged a glance, and he glanced down at Heather, who was staring at Linda, and was therefore unaware that she was the subject of their silent discussion, which Paul frankly was more than okay with. He didn’t know whether or not Heather was asking if Linda was sure of the baby being okay with her interacting with her, or whether or not Heather was asking Linda if she was sure that Heather was the baby’s sister. Of course Heather was the baby’s sister -- Paul didn’t understand why she had any doubts on the subject -- but he knew that she was a sensitive girl, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing, or do something to upset her further.

“Are we sure of what?” Paul asked her after a moment. “Whether the baby will mind?”

She shook her head. “Are you sure that I’m going to be their real sister? I heard what Uncle George and Auntie Pattie said at your work the day that we left,” she whispered. “Uncle George said that he didn’t care that you were adopting me, that he was never going to agree to  _ them _ adopting, and having to explain that they had  _ real _ kids and  _ adopted _ ones, and…” 

Paul drew in a deep breath, and he forced himself to centre himself, not wanting the rage that he felt at what Heather had heard George and Pattie arguing over to spill into how he spoke to her, since he wasn’t angry at her in the slightest. He was, however, yet again angry at George, for not having the sense to not have personal conversations of such a nature around his daughter, who was a literal child. 

“Uncle George can go piss off,” he said, once he was capable of speaking calmly. “I will deal with him the next time we see each other,” he added. “I don’t give a bloody toss what he thinks about adoption, Heather, because I am your father, and you’re my daughter, and George is being a wanker. There is nothing...you’re not some fucking accessory that I’m going to toss aside when the baby’s born. There’s no truth to what he was saying.” 

“You promise?” 

“Yeah, duck, I promise.” He squeezed her hand. “Come ead, why don’t we say hi to the baby and have a spot of brekky?” 

Heather nodded. “Mummy and the baby need to eat.” 

Paul let her take their hands and place them on Linda’s middle, well aware that he hadn’t really done much more than temporarily stave off the crisis that Heather was clearly heading to, but hoping that he had bought them some time. 

“So do you, duckie,” he told her. “You’ve got to get big and strong, y’know. Don’t you want to be big and strong like me?” 

“You don’t like to eat breakfast,” she said after a moment. “You just said.” 

“No, it’s not like that,” he said. “Without you and Mum I didn’t have a reason to get up to eat it, y’know? I stayed in bed all morning long.” 

“You don’t do that now.” 

He knelt so that he was capable of being on her level, and he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No, I don’t do that now,” he said. “That’s because I have you and Mum. You rely on me to be a good father, a good husband, and I don’t want to screw that up. For any of us. Not for either of you, or for the baby. I wasn’t going down a good path,” he admitted. He was unsure how much he wanted to admit about his past to Heather, not because he wasn’t afraid to admit that he’d been flawed, but because she wasn’t even six. “Before I had you and Mum, I made some bad choices,” he settled on. “I wasn’t the smartest with what I did. I had a bad breakup and I sort of...I derailed myself, y’know, did things that weren’t the best for me.” 

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to do that anymore. You and Mum are relying on me to make good choices, and the baby is too,” he said. “So that means that even if I wouldn’t have eaten brekky before, I’m going to now.” 

“Okay,” she said. “We can have porridge. You worked really hard on it.” She kissed his cheek. “You put the jam in it like I asked.” 

He quirked his lips into a grin. “Ta, darling. That’s a good lass.” He ruffled her hair. “Why don’t you go sit at the table with Mummy, and I’ll get everything sorted.” He glanced up at Linda. “That all right, Lin?” 

“Of course,” she said, and she reached for Heather’s hand. “Come with me, darling.” 

Paul dished out the bowls of porridge and brought them over to the table, placing two of them in front of Heather and Linda, and one in front of the spot he was planning on sitting at, before he went back to the kettle to pour them each a cup of tea. After sorting the tea out, he sat down at the table. The girls had already started to eat. 

“Is it good, yeah?” He asked them, feeling rather nervous. Paul was not a natural cook. He knew enough to get by, but not beyond that. Still. He had wanted to try to see if there was something he could do to help Linda. 

“I like it,” Linda told him. “Listen, Paul, honey, you don’t have to do everything around the house just because I’m pregnant. You know that, right?” 

“He can’t know,” Heather said after a moment. “You know he wasn’t there, Mum.”

“Heather--”

Paul reached over and clasped Linda’s hand. “She’s not wrong, Lin. I wasn’t there. I don’t know half of any of this stuff.” 

“I wish he had been,” Heather added. 

Paul turned to her. “I wish that I had been, too.” He sighed. “I have an idea. Why don’t we get a fire going and cuddle up with Mummy in front of the fireplace? We could pile all the blankets on the floor and have a kip together. Would you like that? Martha could join us?” 

Heather nodded. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Mummy had fallen soundly asleep, and Heather had done her best to do so as well, but sleep hadn’t managed to come for her. Her dad was awake, too, but Heather was trying her best to not acknowledge that. She was upset that she had made such a big deal over something so stupid. Obviously Dad hadn’t been there while Mum was pregnant with her. 

She knew that. 

So why did it bother her so much? It was stupid to be upset over it. 

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered softly, not able to look him in the eye, her gaze focused on Martha, whom she was using as a real live comfort object. “What I said earlier. It’s okay that you weren’t there when I was little.” 

“Heather, I don’t--”

“If you had been there when I was little, you would have left,” she continued. “My old dad left and never came back, and he doesn’t even want me. Wouldn’t that have been you?” She glanced over at him before she resumed staring at Martha. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me,” she whimpered, and she felt tears come to her eyes. “Is it because I’m bad?” 

“You’re not bad, duckie,” he told her. “Do you want to sit on my lap? Or would you rather stay with Martha?”

Heather glanced up at him, hoping he didn’t notice that she was crying. “I’ll sit with you.” She crawled over her mum and curled up on his lap, promptly sticking her thumb in her mouth. 

Dad tugged his arms around her, and she buried her face against the material of his thermal shirt, needing to take a moment to cuddle. He smelt like home to her, and she felt quite terrible for saying such rude things. He was her dad, after all. 

“Some people aren’t meant to be parents, and your biological father is one of them,” he told her, his voice low. “It doesn’t mean that you’re the bad person, or that you’re the reason that he left, or that anyone’s bad. It’s just unfortunate.” She felt him kiss her forehead. “Listen, Hettie, you’re my daughter. You will always be my daughter.”

“Even when the baby’s born?” 

“Especially when the baby’s born,” he whispered, and she glanced up at him. “You know that you’re going to be a big sister, yeah?”

“Uh huh, to the baby in Mummy’s tummy.” 

“So we’re going to learn together, y’know, how to handle your mummy being pregnant, and we’re going to learn how to help her with the baby, yeah?” 

Heather nodded. “So we can learn...together?” She liked the idea of that. 

“Yeah, so we can learn together. You and me, yeah?” He kissed her forehead. “It would make Mummy so happy.” 

Heather loved her mum. She would do anything to make her happy. “You promise that the baby will like me?” 

“Darlin’, the baby’s gonna love you.” Daddy let out a sigh. “I know that what George and Pattie said was upsetting to you,” he said, and she nodded. It had hurt her feelings. “They shouldn’t have said that at all, let alone while you were within earshot. I wish that you had told me so that I could have dealt with them then and there.” 

“You were worried about Mum,” she said after a moment. “She’d gotten sick. I was worried about her too. We hadn’t known that the baby was in her.” 

“Will you let me know if someone upsets you again?” 

“You won’t get mad?” 

He reached out and took her hand. “No, not at you.” He kissed her again. “Mum looks comfy, doesn’t she?” 

“She looks tired.” 

“You reckon we ought to nap with her?” 

“Can I be in the middle?” 

* * *

“...and I’m starting to think that Paul isn’t going to come back to the studio anytime soon,” Ringo heard, and he peered at George Martin in confusion. The producer had been rambling on about things that Ringo really didn’t care much about, and he hadn’t really been paying him any attention, but the comment about Paul had piqued his interest. “I don’t know where he’s gone off to.” 

“Paul said that we weren’t going to be recording as a band for a while,” Ringo told him. “You were there when he said it.” 

“Well, of course he said that, but he was kidding, right? You lot could get a session musician in to replace John. We’ve done it before.” 

“We don’t want to do that,” he said. “We’d rather wait to record when John’s back, and you know that. We’re entitled to a break, you know. Paul especially. He’s got a new family to care for.” 

Ringo was fond of young Heather. She was a shy girl, at least when Paul brought her to work with him, but when she came over to play with Zak and Jason she was a bubbly lass. He didn’t have a problem with Linda, either. Sure, she was a New Yorker, but what did he care? She made Paul happy, and that was the important thing. 

“I just don’t understand where he is,” George Martin continued, confusion evident in his tone. “I went ‘round his house to see if he was there, and there was nary a soul. Just the maid. Not even a single fan.” 

“That’s because they’ve gone to his farm,” Ringo told him. “Don’t look at me like that, they haven’t gone permanently, just for a fortnight. They’re going to come back for the launch party.” 

“You’re telling me that Paul’s gone to Scotland on a whim?” 

“They’ve gone on holiday,” he said. “They’re entitled. We’re not recording anything as a group right now, why shouldn’t he take a break? Don’t you think that they deserve it?”   
  


“I assumed that Paul would be here,” he told him. “Helping George with his new album.” 

“I don’t want his help,” George said, finally deigning to speak. “I don’t understand why you’ve got your knickers in a twist about it.” 

“My whats in a what?” George Martin sputtered. “Are you telling me that you’re intending to work on this alone?” 

“Hey!” Ringo said. “I’m here.”

“You knew what I meant, Ringo.” 

Ringo got the distinct sense he was being insulted.

“If Paul wants to go play house in Scotland with that American broad and her daughter,” George interjected, a distinct tone in his voice, “I say that we let him. I don’t appreciate him bringing them around and making up ridiculous rumours that go ‘round to Pattie as if they’re believable.”

“What rumours?”   
  


“He’s gotten me into a lot of trouble,” George told them. “Telling Heather that she’s his actual child, and letting her go around telling people that. All that does is make him look good while Pattie takes it out on me because she thinks that it’s the truth.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Paul actually believes that, you know,” Ringo said. “He’s not just spouting off nonsense to get a rise off you and Pattie, George. Heather is his daughter. Maybe you care about biology or whatever, but that doesn’t matter to Paul, and…” He trailed off. “Are you telling Heather that?” 

George nodded. 

“George!”

“What? So what if I give her my opinion,” he told him. “She’s the one who comes ‘round involving herself in things that don’t involve her.” 

“She’s a child!” Ringo exclaimed. “You don’t say those things to a child! I don’t care if you bloody think them, you don’t say that to a child, George, she’s five! She doesn’t need to hear about your feelings on adoption, because she’s five! She needs to hear that her dad is her dad and sod the rest of it. It’s not about you.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Heather’s needs come before yours,” Ringo told him. “I can’t believe I actually have to explain to you why you shouldn’t tell a five year old that you hate the very thing that makes her family her family. Why would you think that was a good idea?” 

“She’s the one who thinks that it’s true--”

“Because it  _ is _ true!” Ringo snapped. “I don’t know--you don’t get it, do you? You think that it’s okay for you to say things that you know will upset her, just because you’re angry with Paul? Is that it?” 

“Of course I’m angry with Paul--”   
  


“You know what? You can find yourself another drummer. I don’t want to be on your record right now.”

“What?” George Martin said. “Ringo, where are you going?” 

“Paul and Linda, they’ve invited us to visit them in Scotland. I was thinking about blowing them off, but I think that we’re going to go there. I’d rather be around them than either of you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re worried about the baby?” 
> 
> “A little bit,” she whispered. “But, you’re sure that it’s okay for Mummy and the baby to do stuff like normal?” 
> 
> Paul nodded. “Mum will tell us if she needs us to help her,” he promised. “We helped her with this, didn’t we?” He gestured to the furniture that he’d put together in the spare -- theoretically Heather’s -- bedroom. Heather had insisted on accompanying him on his task earlier, and he had really appreciated her company. “You’ve been a big help, Hettie,” he assured her. “The best.”
> 
> “You did almost all of it,” she pointed out. “You only let me help a little.” 

“How would you feel if Uncle Ringo and Auntie Mo came to visit?” Paul asked Heather idly, as he stretched out on the bed he’d put together, testing its strength, while his little helper stood at the foot of it. “Would you like that?” 

“Will they bring Zak and Jason?” Heather asked him. 

“Yeah, they’re going to bring the kids,” he told her, and he patted the spot on the bed beside him. “I think they’re going to spend a couple days here, if you’d be okay with that.”

“Is that why you put the beds together?” 

Heather climbed up onto the bed beside him, and he shifted so that he could wrap his arm around her. He kissed her forehead. 

“Yeah, that’s why,” he said. “You don’t have to sleep in here, if you don’t want,” he assured her. “Mum and I don’t mind that you share the bed with us.” 

“What about the baby?” Heather asked, and she snuggled closer to him. “Do you think that the baby minds?” 

“No, why would the baby mind?” Paul asked her. “I reckon that the baby likes having you there, y’know, because that means three times the attention, y’know, and sometimes you’re awake when Mummy and I aren’t, and that means that the baby’s got you to pay attention to it. I reckon that the baby thinks that’s brilliant.” 

She grinned at him, and he smiled back. “So you’d be okay with a visit?” 

“Yes!” Heather insisted, excitement evident in her voice. “I want to see them, and show them my farm.” 

“That’s brilliant, because I reckon they’ll be here in time for tea.”

“Can we help Mummy with tea?” 

“What do you want to do?” Paul asked her, and he sat himself up on the bed, pleased when she crawled onto his lap. “I’m sure that we can help her, but she’s okay if she makes tea for us. It’s not going to hurt the baby.” 

“I know,” she said. “But we can still help her, Da. Can we make biscuits?” 

“What kind of biscuits?” 

“Peanut butter,” she said, after a moment of thought. “They’re my favourites. Chocolate chip, too.” 

“Well, I reckon that we can ask Mum,” he told her, as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I don’t see why she’d say no, but I don’t want you to be upset if she’s already got something planned, y’know. She might have something else that she’d like us to do.” 

“Or she might not want our help at all,” Heather said, her tone morose. “Like when she made breakfast for us this morning before we even got up.” 

“Ah, but you liked what she made, didn’t you?” 

“I always like what Mummy makes us,” she said, as she shifted on his lap, her eyes lighting up. “She’s a good mummy, the bestest.”

“You’re worried about the baby?” 

“A little bit,” she whispered. “But, you’re sure that it’s okay for Mummy and the baby to do stuff like normal?” 

Paul nodded. “Mum will tell us if she needs us to help her,” he promised. “We helped her with this, didn’t we?” He gestured to the furniture that he’d put together in the spare -- theoretically Heather’s -- bedroom. Heather had insisted on accompanying him on his task earlier, and he had really appreciated her company. “You’ve been a big help, Hettie,” he assured her. “The best.”

“You did almost all of it,” she pointed out. “You only let me help a little.” 

“Cor, but you’ve been keeping me company,” he pointed out. “That’s important, too.” He pecked a kiss on her nose, and she giggled. “You and Mummy,” he said, “are the best things in the world that’s ever happened to me, you know that, right?” 

“I know.” 

“You want me to plait your hair?” Paul offered. 

Heather’s hair was looking rather messy, and Paul had been taught how to plait it when he had first met her, so he was more than willing to do it for her now. 

“Can you do two plaits, Da?” 

He nodded. “I reckon that we can manage that,” he said. “Want me to use some ribbon? We’ve got some in the kitchen.”

“Please?” Heather asked, and she scrambled off his lap. “I can wait here for you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “If you want, you can come with me.” 

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I know that you want to see Mummy.” 

Paul ruffled her hair. “That’s a good lass,” he said. “I’ll just be a mo.” 

“ _ Do _ you want to see Mummy?” Heather teased, and Paul felt a flush rise to his cheeks. “You  _ do _ want to see Mummy.” 

He kissed her cheek. “You’re very smart. I do want to see Mummy.” 

“And give her and the baby kisses?” 

He nodded. “Yes, I reckon that I’d like to give Mummy and the baby some kisses. I think that they like that. I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay,” she whispered. “Will you tell the baby that some of the kisses are from me?” 

“Of course I will,” he said. “You don’t have to worry.” 

Paul was willing to do whatever it took to facilitate a decent relationship between Heather and the baby who was on the way, even if it meant assuring her that he was going to tell the baby that some of the kisses came directly from their big sister. 

“Daddy?” Heather asked, and he paused halfway out the door, twisting back so he could see her. “Will you tell the baby that I said hi, and that I love it?”

“Of course, duck. You know, you can tell the baby that yourself? I’ll show you later, yeah?” 

Heather nodded. “You show me later.” 

Paul lingered for another moment before he decided that it wasn’t going to upset Heather if he left the room. He didn’t bother to shut the door behind him as he headed in the direction of the parlour. He knew that he’d be able to find Linda there. Well, he assumed he’d find her there, at least. The farmhouse wasn’t very big, so it wasn’t as if he’d have to look very far for her. He assumed that she’d be in the parlour, however, because he could hear the television going, and could see Martha was sitting on the settee, clearly beside someone. Paul knew that that had to be Linda, because he would have noticed the additional people in the house. Ringo and his family were not known for their silence. 

“Hey,” he said, as he entered the room, pleased when he captured her attention. “Mind if I join ye?” 

“No, I don’t mind,” she told him. “I was just having a cuddle with Martha.”

“You feel up to some grass?” He asked her. “We can split a spiff?” 

“Mmm,” she purred. “That sounds lovely. Where is our child? Have you lost her?” 

Paul shook his head. “I told her that I needed a few minutes with you, that’s all,” he said. “She seems to think that I’ll be giving her mummy an awful lot of kisses.” He crossed the room to where they kept the hash and pulled out a joint. “What’re you watching?”

“I don’t know, really,” she said, and she shifted so that he could sit down beside her. He lit up the grass and took a drag, before handing it to her. “It’s something about a street?” 

Paul squinted at the telly. “Oh, you’re watching Corrie,” he said. “It was on at John’s. I spent a lot of time watching it with Cyn and Julian.” He shrugged his shoulders. “How are you feeling?” 

“I feel pretty good,” she told him. “I don’t really have anything to complain about. My nausea’s died down, and I...I feel okay.” 

“I just wanted to make sure,” he said. “Is that okay?” 

“Is what okay?” Linda asked him. “I don’t mind if you ask questions. I know that you just want to be involved.” 

“No, I meant is it okay for your nausea to go away,” he clarified, his hand going up to her hair, and his fingers running idly through it. “I didn’t know if that meant there was something going on with you, or the baby.”

“No,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me, or with the baby. It comes and goes, that’s all. It’s normal.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips. “You’re so sweet to be so concerned, but I promise you that we’re fine. You and Heather take the best care of us.” 

Paul had to admit that he was relieved. He hadn’t wanted Linda to be miserable day in and day out, but he’d needed the bit of extra reassurance that things were okay with her, and their little one who was on the way. He knew that she was telling the truth. 

“You know that Heather wants to dote on you, you’re her mummy,” he pointed out. “As for me, I’ve gotten you pregnant, taking care of the two of you is the least I can do.” 

“You do take care of me,” she said, and she shifted so that she was perched on his lap, her skirt having flipped up in the process. Paul didn’t mind. “You and Heather are so good to me. I couldn’t ask for a better fiance, or a better daughter.”

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she said. “Did you and Heather finish building those beds? I would hate to have to tell our guests they needed to sleep on this couch.” 

Paul had settled his hand on her abdomen, leaving his other free for the joint they were sharing. “We finished,” he assured her. “You don’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t have let them sleep on the settee.” 

“You know that it’s too early to feel the baby, right?” Linda asked him, though he noticed that she was smiling fondly at the placement of his hand. “That’ll be a few months more, yet.” 

“I know,” he allowed. “I’m practising.” 

“Do you notice anything different?” 

Paul gave her a rather cheeky grin, and he let his hand drift up north, and he caressed her breast through her jumper. “Well, I reckon that these have grown a bit,” he murmured, and he allowed his other hand to join the first. “Have you abandoned your bra?” 

“I reckoned there wasn’t much point in buying a larger one,” she said, her tone breezy. “You don’t seem to mind.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” he assured her. “I think you’re sexy. I think that this is sexy. All the changes that you’re going to go through, that we’re going to experience together.” He licked his lips. “You, y’know, you taste different, too, but I don’t think that it’s in a bad way. I just think that it’s got something to do with the pregnancy.” He worried his lip. “You still like it, right? It’s not making you feel weird? When I go down on ye?” 

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “It feels wonderful. I’d tell you if it was hurting me, or anything, but I rather quite like it.” 

“Ta, that’s brilliant, luv, seeing as I rather quite like doin’ it to you.” He playfully nipped at her. “I’m sorry that we haven’t had much time to ourselves since we’ve been up here. Did you want me to try to convince Hettie to sleep in the other room?” Paul was dubious that would go well. “I do fancy a shag, y’know. I reckon we’ll have a room to ourselves at Dad’s. Ruth’ll want Hettie to bunk in with her.” 

“You fancy me? Still? Even though I’m all bloated?” 

“Just means that our sprog’s in ye,” he told her, and he manoeuvred himself so that he could press a kiss to her middle, followed by two more. “Hullo, little one,” he said, in a voice barely above a whisper. “I know that you’re too little to do anything quite yet, but I wanted to say hi to ye anyways. You be good to your mummy.” He kissed her tummy again, and again, before he kissed her once more. “Yeah, Lin, I fancy you. You don’t have to worry about that.” 

“I fancy you, too,” she said, and she reached a hand up to touch his scruff. “This suits you.” 

“You think so?” Paul asked her. “Heather asked me to grow it out. I was happy to oblige her.” 

“You ought to go back to her,” she told him. “What are you going to do?” 

“I told her that I’d plait her hair for her.”

“That’s sweet of you,” she said. “Do you want it to be just the two of you? Or do you want me to come along?”

He captured her lips in another kiss. “I think it would make Hettie happy to see you, y’know.”

“What about her father?” 

Paul grinned. “Her father would love for her mother to come join us and see the hard work that we did,” he told her, the warm feeling that he felt whenever he was referred to as Heather’s dad washing over him. “Y’know, I reckon that I could carry you in there,” he offered, his hands caressing her breasts. “Would you like that?” 

Linda responded with a pleasured keen. “Yeah, you like that, momma?” 

“Paul, don’t tease,” she chastised, in a weak tone. “You know that I do.” 

He nuzzled her neck. “I can’t help it, baby. You’re irresistible.” 

Paul wanted nothing more than to unbuckle his jeans and tug her underwear down and have his way with Linda right then and there on the couch, but he forced himself to maintain control. It was fine for them to get a little frisky while Heather was waiting for them, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself and get caught in the act. He didn’t have the energy to explain sex to his almost-six year old. 

“Maybe we can convince her to go with Mo and Rich for a tour of the grounds?” Paul suggested, his tone low. “Seems that she might be willing, she wants to show them her farm. That’d leave you and me all alone.” 

“Mmm, what would we get up to?” 

“I reckoned that I’d give ye a good shag,” he said honestly. “Y’know, if you feel up to it.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“Mummy!” Heather exclaimed, and Linda saw the excitement in her daughter’s eyes as she entered the second bedroom, holding Paul’s hand tightly as she did. “Did Daddy give the baby kisses from me?” 

“Of course he did,” Linda assured her. “Do you want me to sit with you while he does your hair?” 

Heather nodded. “Sit, Mum,” she insisted. “I want to sit on Da’s lap.” 

“That’s up to him, Heather,” she said, and she joined Heather on the bed. “Maybe it would make more sense for him to do your hair first, and then you can cuddle with him?” She gave Paul a knowing glance. “What do you think, Papa?” 

“I reckon you’re right, Momma,” he said, and she flashed him a grin. “Come ead, Het. Let me fix your hair up for ye.” 

Linda rather enjoyed the effect that she had on Paul, and she hoped that Heather would agree to be occupied for a while by Richard and Maureen, just so that they could have a moment alone together to finish what Paul had been rather eager to start. If Heather wanted them to go with them, of course they’d go, and they’d make due. But she was going to insist that Heather and Ruth share a room when they went to Paul’s father’s house for the Christmas holiday. She needed him so desperately it was almost embarrassing. Or, it would have been embarrassing if feeling sexually attracted to someone  _ made _ Linda feel embarrassed. It definitely did not. 

But, she enjoyed watching Paul do fatherly things with Heather, as well. She watched as he braided her hair, his brow furrowed in concentration as he threaded her hair into the matching braids. He tied each one with a careful bow. 

“There you go, duckie,” he said, and he kissed the top of her head. “Go on, look at ye in the mirror in our room. When you come back you can cuddle with me and mum. Maybe even say hullo to the baby.” 

“I want to say hi to the baby,” Heather insisted. 

“Well, go on,” he said. “Mum and I can either stay here, or we can go with you, and cuddle in our room. Whatever suits you. What do you prefer?” 

“Our room,” she said after a moment of thought. “I like the big bed and I like that my stuffed animals are there.” 

“I like the big bed, too,” Linda chimed in, and Heather shot her a grin. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If we had a bit of a cuddle together?” 

“All of us,” she said. “You, me, Daddy, and the baby.” 

“What do you say, Daddy?” Linda asked Paul. “Want to indulge our big girl?” 

“Of course I do,” he said. “You want me to carry you?” 

Linda nodded. “That would be nice, you know, I like when you carry me.” 

“I like when Daddy carries me, too,” Heather chimed in. “Maybe the baby likes it.” 

“Maybe so,” Linda said. She had never been treated to so much affection during her previous pregnancy, and she was frankly unsure what to make of it. Not to mention, unsure of whether or not she truly deserved it. Heather and Paul seemed convinced that she did, however, and she wanted to enjoy that while it lasted. “I know that I like it, so it stands to reason that the baby would as well. Do you want Daddy to carry you in, too?” 

Heather shook her head. “I want him to carry you and the baby,” she said. “I can walk.” 

Linda watched as Heather skipped out of the room, the young girl barely giving them a backwards glance. She hadn’t been expecting Heather to not want Paul to carry her. In a way, though, it was sweet. Heather was single mindedly focused on her younger sibling, and what would make the unborn child happy. It was sweet.

“I think that she’s fond of the baby,” Paul said, and he offered her a hand to help her up. Linda gladly accepted, and he pulled her upright. She pressed her hand to her midsection. “Everything okay?” 

“Everything’s fine,” she assured him, and she gave him a kiss. “I’m just excited that you’ve made me a mum again.” 

Paul wrapped his arms around her, and he nuzzled her nose. “Make you a mummy as many times as you’d like, y’know, Lin?” 

“You would?” 

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, y’know, I want to be a dad. I’ve wanted to be a dad for a long time, and then I met you and Heather, and you gave me the honour of being her daddy. I’d have been more than satisfied with just her. But, you’ve given me a baby. That’s brilliant.” He kissed her softly. “Two babies. Heather and this little one here.” 

He scooped her up and into his arms. “C’mon, let’s go snuggle with our big baby.” 

Linda thought that was a fine idea, and she looped her arms around his neck. Paul was a strong man, and she knew that he wasn’t going to drop her or anything. She felt secure in his arms. 

“Thank you for fixing things up around here,” she said softly. “I appreciate all the work that you put into doing it.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Lin,” he said softly. “I want to do this sort of stuff, y’know, for our family. I’d hate for Heath to get hurt here because I didn’t make sure everything was sorted out properly. I know that there’s still work to do,” he added. “But I will do it.” 

“I know you will,” she said. “You’re good to us.” 

He carried her into their bedroom, where Heather was admiring herself in the mirror, and he sat her down on her side of the bed. 

“Did I do all right, yeah?” 

Heather nodded, and she grinned widely. “They’re so pretty, Daddy.” 

Linda patted the bed beside her. “Come sit with me, darling.” 

Heather scrambled up as soon as she spoke her request, and she carded her fingers through her hair, surprised when she felt Heather cover her abdomen with her hand. Heather had interacted with the baby a little bit, but typically with Paul guiding her. Acknowledging her brother or sister on her own was new. 

“Daddy says you love me,” Heather directed to her tummy. “I--I love you, too.” 

Paul had grabbed her camera, and she heard the click of a shutter. He’d clearly been keen to photograph the two of them. 

“That’s very sweet, Hettie,” Linda said to her, and she shifted so that Heather could use her as a pillow. “The baby loves you so much.” 

Paul had climbed over her to settle on Heather’s other side. “What do you think of the baby, kitten?” 

“I love the baby,” she said. “Even though Mummy feels poorly sometimes.” 

“But that’s only for a couple more months,” Linda assured her. “Wait until the baby starts to interact with us. I think you’ll like that, when he or she starts to move around inside me.” 

Paul’s hand had joined Heather’s. “That sounds like it’d be brilliant.” She felt him kiss her forehead. “Maybe the baby will kick for you first, Hettie. You’re its big sister.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You really want to go to the launch party?” 
> 
> Paul wanted to just sod the whole thing and stay at home with Linda and Heather, but Heather had been excited at the thought of going to the launch party. He was willing to indulge her, but he wanted to understand why. As far as he was concerned, it was a load of codswallop. 
> 
> “I liked the parties that Mummy took me to back in New York,” she told him. “I got to meet her friends that she took pictures of, everyone would play with me, they were so nice. And you and Mummy met at a launch party. You told me.” 
> 
> “That’s right, we did tell you about that, didn’t we?”
> 
> “I want to go with both of you, because you’re my dad, and I’ve never gone to a party with you. Why can’t it be a party for the record? You worked so hard on it.” 

Linda hated to put any sort of damper on either Paul or Heather’s enthusiasm, but she sensed that she would be in for a very long three months if she didn’t say anything on the subject. “I don’t want you two to think that’s going to happen right away,” she told them, though she covered their hands with hers. “It will be a few months from now. The baby starting to kick.” 

“It will be?” Paul asked her, and she smiled as he reached his hand up and smoothed her hair. “Why?” 

“The baby needs to get big enough,” she said. “I didn’t feel Heather kick until I was five months gone.” She ran her fingers through Heather’s hair. 

“Was I okay, Mummy?” Heather asked. Her hand remained pressed down on Linda’s abdomen. “When I was inside of you, was I okay?” 

“You were perfect, Hettie,” she said, hoping to reassure her. “The baby is going to be perfect too. I promise. I just didn’t want you to think that the baby would kick for you anytime soon.” 

“It’s okay, Mummy,” Heather said, though Linda could hear some disappointment in her tone. 

“You know that we can still give your mummy and the baby attention, right?” Paul asked her. “Even if the baby isn’t grown enough to kick for us, I reckon that Mummy likes when you pay attention to her.” 

“Is he telling the truth?” Heather asked, as she curled closer to her, her hand still snuggly under Linda’s. “You don’t mind?” 

Linda nodded. “Of course, darling,” she said. “I don’t mind the attention at all.” 

“What about the baby?” Heather continued. “Do you think that it is going to like me?”

“Yes,” she said. “You’re going to be the baby’s big sister, and that’s the most important job of all. You’re going to have to teach him or her how to do things. Like Zak teaches Jason.”

“Okay,” Heather whispered, her tone more confident than it had been before. “I want to teach the baby things.”    
  


“And you can be there when we tell Uncle Ringo and Auntie Mo about the baby today,” Paul added. He glanced up at Linda. “It’s okay that we tell them, right?” 

“Of course it’s okay,” Linda assured him. “Were you planning on keeping the baby a secret forever?” 

“I don’t want to keep the baby a secret from them,” he said. “They’re my mates. I don’t want to necessarily tell everyone at my dad’s about it.” 

“Paul--”   
  


“No, I understand that we should tell them, and I’m going to, I just wish that certain people weren’t going to expect certain things out of our children,” he continued. “I’ve told Angie time and again that she’s not my mum, and she’s never bloody going to be, and now I find out that she’s decided that she’d sooner ignore what I want and try to get her hooks in our daughter. I won’t stand for that, Linda.” 

Linda gaped. She had never seen Paul so angry at his stepmother before. It was a little disconcerting. “What are you talking about?” 

“Angie wants me to call her grandma,” Heather said quietly. “I don’t want to, Mum, and Da said that I didn’t have to. He said he’d sort it out.” 

“Yeah, I did, and I will. You don’t have to worry, Heather. I’m not going to make you call her that. But, we still have to tell her about the baby, y’know? I don’t want to keep the baby a secret from everyone, just like I don’t want you to be a secret.” 

Beside her, Heather let out a sigh. “I don’t want to have to hide the baby,” she said after a moment. “I just don’t like that she doesn’t listen to me.” 

“I understand that, duck, and that’s why I’m going to speak with her, okay? She’s not going to force you to call her that anymore, I promise.” 

“We’re both going to talk to her,” Linda said. “This isn’t just on you, Paul. I told you, we’re a team. If something is bothering you, or bothering Heather, and it’s something that we both can deal with, I want to know about it.” She turned to Heather. “You don’t have to call Angie anything other than what you want to call her,” she said. “You don’t need to handle issues with your family on your own anymore,” she added, directing the comment at Paul. “I’m here for you. No matter what. Okay?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, Lin, okay.” He took her hand in his and she grinned as he kissed her knuckles. “You okay, Hettie?” 

Heather nodded. “Can we bake biscuits?” 

“You want to bake biscuits?” Linda asked her, willing to go along with the sudden change of subject. Heather nodded as she burrowed closer to her. “I think we can do that. What kind do you want to make?” 

“Chocolate chip,” she said after a moment. “And peanut butter. Can we make both kinds? For Uncle Ringo’s family?” 

Linda had to admit that Heather had the right idea, suggesting that they bake cookies, and she gave her an encouraging smile. “Yeah, honey, we can bake biscuits for them. Do you want me to bake them and you and Daddy can be my official taste testers? There’s two cookie types so I need two testers. Or you can help me stir, if you want?” 

Mainly, Linda enjoyed having an intact house, that wasn’t consumed with flames. 

“I reckon that being the taste tester is the best job for Heather and me,” Paul said, and he shot her a lazy grin. “Neither of us really know how to make biscuits, y’know, and I reckon that you’d like them to be edible. I really don’t want my cooking to put poor Ringo in the hospital. What do you say, kitten? You want to help me taste test?” 

“We can go out with you to the kitchen and watch, right, Mummy?” Heather asked. “Even if you do all the baking?” 

“Of course the two of you can,” she assured her. “I’d really love the company. And you can show Daddy what a good helper you are.” 

“I want Daddy to carry me,” Heather informed her, and Linda watched as she peeled herself off her and wrapped her arms around Paul’s middle. “Will you carry me, Daddy?” 

“Of course I will,” he said. “You ready to take a break from cuddling?” 

“We’re going to make cookies, duh, Daddy.”

Linda watched as Paul lifted Heather into his arms. They really did look like a father and a daughter. Paul was good to her. He was good to them both. 

“Have you helped Mummy bake cookies before?” Paul asked her. It was strange hearing him call them cookies and not biscuits, but she was okay with it since he was doing it to not upset Heather. 

“Yes, loads of times. We baked biscuits a lot when we lived in New York.” 

“Do you miss New York, Heather?” 

“Sometimes,” she said. “But I know that you have to live here because of your job. You said we could visit, right?” 

  
  


“Yeah,” Paul assured her, and he held her tightly in his arms as he climbed off the bed. “We can go visit after the Christmas holidays, maybe?” 

“I really think that we should wait until we get married,” Linda told him. He glanced over at her. “I just don’t want my dad to react badly--”

“We can get married after the launch party?” He suggested. “I don’t reckon that we’d need to make a big to do out of it, y’know, all I care about is the fact that you want to marry me. That’s all I need. We can get married and everyone will be happy about it. Just the three of us.” 

“What about me?” Heather asked him. “Can’t I come?” 

“Cor, that’s why I said the three of us,” he said. “You, me, and Mum.” 

“You  _ forgot _ about the baby,” she said, in a chiding tone. “Da!” 

“Oh, duckie, I didn’t forget about the baby,” he assured her. “I just meant that we didn’t need to have a big to do, with a bunch of people.” 

Heather seemed to be contemplating this. “Why don’t you want a big party? I like parties.” 

“I think that Daddy just wants it to be special,” Linda assured her. “We could always do it the same day as the launch party? Wouldn’t people be distracted?” 

“What?” Paul asked her. “You think we should get married before?”

Heather nodded. “You said you don’t want people to make a big deal over it,” she said. “Maybe all people would care about is the record.” 

Linda glanced over at Paul, and he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t have a problem with it,” he said. “Maybe you’re right, and no one would notice. Surely they’d be waiting at wherever we’re going to have the party. We’d be able to duck into a Registry and get married in peace.” 

“Well, that’s more than okay with me,” Linda told him. She arched a brow. “Where is the launch party going to be held?”

“I don’t know,” he told her. “I haven’t paid it much mind.” 

“Paul…” Linda trailed off. “Whose job is it to put together a launch party, anyways?” 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Brian’s always done them. We’ve never done. We didn’t have a party for Magical Mystery Tour because it was such a bust up,” he shook his head. “I’m not going to be in charge of it. I’m not. I’m not having people traipse in and out of our house while you have to play hostess to them, Linda.”

“Well, I obviously don’t want that to happen, either, but someone has to.” 

Paul sighed. “I’ll ask Ringo if he’s willing to sort things out,” he said after a moment. “We can just have it at Apple. I’m sure that he can come up with something.” 

“You’ve never taken me to Apple,” Heather informed him. “Why not?”

“Cause all that stuff, it’s a drag, Hettie. I don’t care so much about the numbers side of things. I let your grandpa and Uncle John deal with that. Did you know that your father said normal people have personal bank accounts, Lin?” 

“Yes,” she said, and she leaned in to give him a kiss. “That’s because they do, honey.” 

“I want a kiss, too,” Heather insisted. “Is it time to bake biscuits yet? Can Daddy and I really help you?” 

Linda was more than happy to oblige Heather’s request for a kiss. “I’m not sure that Daddy’s ever made biscuits before,” she told her. “He might not know what to do. You’d have to show him how you help me.” 

Heather’s eyes widened as she processed Linda’s statement. “You’ve never made biscuits, Da?” 

“No, I’m not good that sort of stuff,” he said. “You know that. My mum was busy working, she didn’t have a lot of time to teach me things like this, y’know, she was a midwife, so she spent a lot of time working. She made us biscuits sometimes, y’know, for special occasions, but there was never any time to teach that stuff to me or to Mike. You’re probably better at helping Mummy bake than I am, y’know, because she’s been baking around you your whole life.” Linda watched him kiss her cheek, and she smiled at them. “But, you’re going to show me how it’s done, right? And Mummy’s going to use all these nice things we bought her for the kitchen?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, we made the kitchen so nice for you,” she said. 

“It was nice of Daddy to take you with him when he went shopping for the farmhouse, wasn’t it?” Linda asked her, and she ruffled her hair. “Where did you go?” 

“A place with a silly name,” Heather told her. “I thought we were going to visit a person, but it was really a store.” 

“We went to Marks and Spencer,” Paul elaborated. “We had a good time, didn’t we, Hettie?” He ruffled her hair. “You were a big help.” 

“She’s always a big help,” Linda said, and she wrapped her arm around Paul’s waist as they walked into the kitchen. “Why don’t the two of you help me get the ingredients out? Do you remember what goes into my chocolate chip cookies, Heather?” 

Heather nodded. “I can show Daddy.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Paul had learnt that he was his most helpful to Linda in the kitchen when he stayed out of her way, which suited him because it meant that the food that she was making was edible. It also meant that he could take pictures of her and Heather as they made the cookies. Heather seemed quite adept at baking. He was impressed. 

“You’re good at that,” he told her, when he noticed he’d caught her attention. “You reckon you’ll be able to show your brother or sister, when they’re old enough?” 

Heather nodded. “I can show you, too,” she offered. “Mummy likes when we help her.” 

“Yeah, of course you can show me,” he said. “You really want to go to the launch party?” 

Paul wanted to just sod the whole thing and stay at home with Linda and Heather, but Heather had been excited at the thought of going to the launch party. He was willing to indulge her, but he wanted to understand why. As far as he was concerned, it was a load of codswallop. 

“I liked the parties that Mummy took me to back in New York,” she told him. “I got to meet her friends that she took pictures of, everyone would play with me, they were so nice. And you and Mummy met at a launch party. You told me.” 

“That’s right, we did tell you about that, didn’t we?” 

“I want to go with both of you, because you’re my dad, and I’ve never gone to a party with you. Why can’t it be a party for the record? You worked so hard on it.” 

“She’s not wrong, Paul,” Linda said, and Paul pulled a face at her, mindful that Heather couldn’t see. “You did work hard on the record, you should want to acknowledge that.” 

Paul didn’t care that he’d worked hard on the record. That was his job, and he didn’t particularly see the need that he be praised for it. He did, however, care that Heather had expressed a desire to go to a party with him. He hadn’t expected her to say that. 

“You really want to go with me to the party?” He asked her. Heather nodded. “What would you say if I let you go to the Apple Boutique to pick out a pretty dress for it? You and Mummy. Would you like that?” 

“The Apple Boutique?” Linda echoed, and Paul could hear a hint of disbelief in her tone. “What possessed the four of you to own a boutique?” 

“The money had to be diversified somehow, Lin,” he said, with a shrug. “We thought it would be a good idea, y’know. Everyone likes clothes.” 

“I want to go to your store to get my pretty dress, Daddy,” Heather said, and she reached her hand out for him to clasp it. “Mummy too!”

“Mummy too, of course,” he agreed. “Mummy’s always welcomed to do things with us.” 

“Will you come, Mum?” Heather asked, and she tugged on Linda’s skirt. “I want you to come with us.” 

“Of course I’ll come with the two of you,” Linda told her. “We’ll have to pick out two dresses, maybe? One for the wedding, and one for the party?”

Heather’s eyes lit up. “We really get two dresses?” 

“Sure,” Linda said. “Why not?” She reached her hand down to smooth out Heather’s hair. “Did the two of you want to eat some cookie dough?” 

“We’re allowed to?” Paul asked, and he peered at the two mixing bowls, unable to stop his stomach from growling. What? He was a growing boy. “Really?” 

“I wouldn’t have offered it to you if I wasn’t going to share,” she said. “You and Heather get a beater of each type, does that sound fair?” 

“You don’t want any, baby?” 

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Heather just wants to share with you, don’t you, honey?” She ran her hand down Heather’s back. “I promised you that you two would be my taste testers, and that includes licking the batter.” 

Heather brandished two of the beaters in his direction, a wide grin on her face. It was clear to him that having an official task made her happy. That made him happy, too. 

“Here you go, Daddy,” she said. “Two for you, and two for me.” 

“Want to sit down with me?” He offered, taking the beaters in hand. He pulled back the nearest chair and sat down, pleased when she climbed up on his lap. “So this is biscuit dough, eh?” 

“It’s the best,” she told him, taking a bite of the batter off hers. Paul watched her chew and swallow. He followed suit. “Mummy’s the best baker in the whole world.” 

Paul swallowed his bite of dough. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?” . 

He couldn’t believe that this was his life. Falling in love with Linda had meant that he’d gained an instant family in her, and in her daughter Heather, and he loved every moment of being Heather’s father. Even though being her dad meant that he couldn’t always be her favourite playmate or give her loads of sweets whenever he pleased, he was honoured that Linda had trusted him enough with Heather to allow him the privilege of assuming the role. Heather’s biological father had abandoned Linda while she was pregnant with Heather, and therefore, Heather had never met him. Paul had been surprised when she’d wanted to call him dad, but she’d done so, and he wasn’t going to say no. If it was fine with Linda, it was fine with him. 

For some reason, Heather adored him. And, hell, Paul definitely adored her. 

He wrapped his arm around Heather’s waist, making sure that she wouldn’t fall. 

“What are you going to do with Zak? When he gets here?” Paul asked her, having finished his beaters. “Are you going to go out in the paddock and play with Martha?” 

“Do you think Martha would like to play with us?” Heather asked him. 

Paul nodded. “I reckon so,” he said. “She’s meant to be good with children, y’know. That’s one of the reasons I got her, y’know. I wanted to make sure that me dog was good with kids, since me mates have them, and me dad’s given me a younger sister. Now I have you, Hettie, and I’m glad that I did my due diligence with Martha from the start. I’d hate to have had a dog that didn’t want to play with ye.” 

Martha was sprawled under the table, eying their every move. He was sure that she was hoping that someone would drop a particularly decent morsel. 

“We’ll play with her, then,” Heather said. She shifted on his lap so she could give him a kiss. “I don’t know if Jason’s too little, though.” 

“I don’t have an answer to that,” he said. “We’ll have to ask his mum when they get here. Maybe you can read him one of your goodnight stories?” 

Heather had a sizeable stack of books that had been amassed by various sources, and Paul made sure to read her at least one every night. He knew that he didn’t necessarily have to read to her every night, but he liked it, and she liked it, and Linda thought they were sweet, so what was the harm? He wanted Heather to practice her reading skills, however, and he thought that it would be fine for her to read to little Jason. 

“You really think he’d like that?” She asked him. 

“Yeah, duck, I think he would,” Paul said, and he tenderly rubbed a spot of batter off Heather’s cheek. “Why don’t we help Mummy put the cookies on the trays?”

* * *

  
  
  


“Well, here we are,” Ringo announced to his family in a jovial tone, before a glance in the mirror revealed that Zak and Jason were soundly asleep, and a glance beside him revealed that the look Maureen was giving him was practically murderous. “I’m sorry, Mo, I didn’t realise that they were sleeping.” 

“It was a long drive, Richie,” she said after a moment. “It makes sense that they’d have fallen asleep. Especially Jason. He’s just a baby.” She lit a cigarette. “This is where Paul lives?”

Ringo nodded. “I reckon he likes having a break from all the bustle of London,” he said. “Especially since he’s got a daughter, now. We’re not recording right now, so it makes sense for them to want to get away from it all.” 

“Are you sure that they’re okay with us visiting them?” 

“I made sure of it,” he assured her. “Paul and Linda are looking forward to us spending a couple of days here, and Heather is looking forward to seeing the boys.” 

“Well,” she said, and she let out a sigh. “You remember that Jane didn’t particularly cherish our presence, don’t you?” 

“I remember,” he admitted. “But, Linda’s different, Mo, I swear. You’re really going to like her. She’s from New York.” 

The door to the farmhouse opened, and Ringo could see the silhouettes of Paul’s sheepdog, and five-year-old Heather, gathered in the doorway. He imagined that they’d heard the car pull up into the driveway. 

“You’ve got to wait for them to come to us,” he could hear Paul say, as he joined the others. “Or at the very least, you’ve got to wait for me. You can’t be running around unsupervised when someone’s car is running, Heather.” 

Ringo cut the engine to the car. “Why don’t we get out of the car? I can carry the kids in...I’m sure that they have a bed they can finish napping on.” 

Maureen nodded. “You can get Zak,” she said. “I’ll carry Jason.” 

Ringo figured that that was as good an idea as any, and he slipped out of the driver’s seat, and offered Paul and Heather a wave as he opened the rear door. Zak was soundly asleep, his arms cradling his stuffed animal, and Ringo was able to lift him with ease. He left the luggage that they’d brought with them in the boot of the car. He’d be able to get it later. 

Martha had gone into the house, clearly having been chastised by Paul, but he and Heather remained on the front steps. 

“Zak’s sleeping,” Heather informed Paul, her voice in what Ringo assumed was meant to be a whisper. 

“I see that,” Paul said in agreement. “I can show you and Mo where they can sleep, Ringo,” he said, and he extended an arm to wave to Maureen in greeting. “We’ve done up the guest room nice for everyone, haven’t we, Hettie?” 

Heather nodded. “I got to help Daddy.” She slipped her hand into Paul’s. “It’s cold out. Can we go back inside?” 

Maureen had joined them, Jason securely in her arms. “Hi, Paul,” she said, and she gave him a one armed hug. “I’m sorry we’re late.” 

“You don’t have to apologise,” Paul said. “It’s good to see the lot of ye. Come in. I was just telling Ringo that we have a guest room done up for ye, and I thought you could just bring the boys in there for a lie in, y’know?” 

“That would be nice,” she told him, before she directed her attention to Heather, who was standing beside Paul, and doing her best to appear invisible. “I’m sorry that Zak and Jason are sleeping, honey. I’m sure that they’ll be awake to play with ye soon.” 

“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind that they’re sleeping. They look tired.” 

“Still, I’m sorry they are.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s with him?” She asked him. “He’s gotten the fathering bug, hasn’t he?” 

“Do you want to go with me to show them where their room is?” Ringo heard Paul ask Heather, who had wrapped herself around his leg. “Or do you want to go into the sitting room and see how Mummy’s doing?” 

“Go with you,” she said after a moment. “But, only if Uncle Ringo and Auntie Mo don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Ringo said hastily, and he glanced over at Maureen. “Do you mind, Mo?” 

“Of course not,” she said. “Whatever makes Heather happy.” 

“Heather’s happy,” Paul said, and Ringo watched him scoop her up. “Aren’t ye happy, duck? Have we been having a good time here?” 

“The best time,” she said. 

“We can tell them about it once we let them settle Zak and Jason in, how does that sound?” 

“Can we tell them everything?” Heather asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Da?” 

“That’s what I promised, didn’t I?” Paul asked her, before he turned his attention to him and Mo. “Come ead, we’ll show you the room.” 

Ringo wondered what ‘everything’ consisted of, but he followed behind Paul as he (and Heather) led the way towards the back of the farmhouse. There was a larger bedroom that they passed along the way, which was clearly Paul and Linda’s, but he wondered where Heather slept. The farmhouse was smaller than he expected. 

“We’re not putting Heather out of her room, are we?” Mo asked Paul, voicing the question he was silently wondering. “Where is she sleeping?”

Paul shook his head. “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “She’s bunked in with us. You’re not putting her out.” 

“Mummy and Daddy let me cuddle in bed with them,” Heather supplied. “The whole night. Sometimes Martha sleeps on the bed with us, too.” 

“You like that, don’t you?” Heather nodded. “D’you want to get down so you can open the door for them?” 

“Okay, Da. I’ll get down. Just to open the door.” 

Ringo watched as Paul lowered himself so that Heather could safely hop out of his arms, baffled at how he managed to be more adept at parenting in only a few months than John had ever managed to be over the course of five years. Heather turned the handle on the door that was directly in front of them, and she opened it to reveal a bedroom with two double beds in it. 

“Here you go,” she said, in a louder tone than she’d used previously. “I’m glad you guys came.” 

“Me, too,” Paul added. “Why don’t the two of you settle the kids and join us in the sitting room?” 

“That sounds like a good idea, thanks, Paul,” Mo said. “I don’t think they’re going to sleep for much longer,” she added, directing that comment to Heather. 

“They must be tired,” she said. “It’s okay.”

“We’ll be out in a moment,” he told Paul. 

“Take as long as you need,” he said. “We’re not going anywhere, are we, Hettie?”    
  


Heather shook her head. “No, we’re staying.” 

“That’s a lass. Up ye go. Mummy’s making us some hot cocoa. I reckon it’s almost ready.” 

With that, Paul and Heather headed out of the room and down the hallway, leaving Ringo and Maureen to their own devices. 

“What’s with him?” She asked him. “He’s gotten the fathering bug, hasn’t he?” 

Ringo nodded. “He’s very committed to Heather,” he said. “He’s going to be adopting her after they get married.” 

“I reckon there’s something more to it,” she said with a smirk. “You’re sure there isn’t a little McCartney on the way?” 

“I thought that was why he’d moved them out here,” he admitted. “Paul’s been pretty convincing when he claims otherwise, though. It’s been long enough that it would have been noticeable. They’ve been here since October.” 

“Well, maybe it’s a recent development?” 

Ringo paused to think about that. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “I reckon he’d tell us if there was. It’s their life, not ours.” 

“Well, of course, it’s their life,” Maureen said. “I just think that he’s sweet.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“Do you see Mummy?” Paul asked Heather, as they entered the sitting room, her snuggly in his arms. Linda was sat on the settee, her feet resting on the table in front of her. “I see Mummy.” 

Heather giggled. “I see her too,” she squealed, and she wriggled in his hold. “Put me down, Daddy. I want to snuggle with Mummy.” 

“Of course you can snuggle with Mummy,” he said. He placed her down on the settee. “There you go. Let’s sit with Mummy.” 

“Mummy should be in the middle,” Heather instructed him, and Paul watched as she wriggled closer to Linda, practically burrowing herself against her side. Her stuffed pig was on the other side of Linda, and he grabbed it and held it out to her. “Thank you, Daddy.”   
  


“You’re welcome, duckie.” He grinned at her, and sat down on Linda’s opposite side. “Is this how you want us to sit?” 

Heather nodded. “Are you okay, Mummy?” 

Linda smiled at her. “I’m okay, sweetie. I was just relaxing. It’s nice to sit here in front of the fire, you know?” 

“Uh huh, it’s so warm and cozy,” Heather agreed. Paul watched as she shifted so that her head could rest on Linda’s lap. “Hi little baby,” he heard her whisper. “I love you.” 

Paul couldn’t help but smile as he reached for the pack of cigarettes that he’d left on the table. He lit one up. He couldn’t wait until Linda was showing, even if it meant that their private little secret would be out in the open. Not that he wanted the baby to be a secret. He wanted people to know about it. 

“Daddy,” Heather chided, and he glanced over at her. “You didn’t say hi.” 

“He doesn’t need to, darling--”

“No, Lin, she’s right,” he said. “I haven’t said hullo.” He stretched out so that he laid on the settee, taking up the entirety of his side, and he leaned over to tenderly nuzzle her tummy. “Hi darling. I’m here.” He leaned over and kissed Heather as well, before he put himself back to rights and tenderly kissed Linda. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she said. “I think that they’re coming out,” she added. “I can hear footsteps.”

Paul could hear footsteps, too, and he took a drag of his cigarette, waiting for Maureen and Ringo to appear. They did, of course, in rather short order. 

Paul gestured to the smaller settee. “Go on, sit,” he told them. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” 

“I hope that travelling here wasn’t too difficult,” Linda said. “I realise it’s a bit far from London.” 

“That’s why we like it,” he chirped. “No one really bothers us here, y’know. It’s a nice place to be raisin’ a family.” Paul wanted to press his hand to Linda’s abdomen, but he settled for placing it on her upper thigh. Heather, on the other hand, had no such qualms. Their little girl couldn’t have made her fixation on Linda’s tummy more obvious if she’d tried. “I thought you were working on George’s LP?” 

Ringo rolled his eyes. “I needed a break from him. He’s driving me batty. As is George Martin. If he had it his way we’d have stuck a revolving rhythm guitarist in John’s spot until he came back, and no one would be having a break at all. So I reckoned we’d take you up on your offer.” 

“Right, because that would go over so well with John,” Paul groused, and he rolled his eyes. “He’d do us in if we pulled a stunt like that.” He lit up another smoke. “I thought I made it clear that I wanted a break.” 

“He thought you were kidding,” he said. 

“Kidding? What the bloody hell was there to kid about? Bollocks to that. I’ve got better things to do with me time than make jokes at the recording studio.” 

“Like what?” 

Paul puffed up with pride. “Things,” he said. “Y’know, like being a father? That’s more important to me than auditioning guitarists and trying to get everyone to get along. I have actual priorities, now, y’know? I’ve got Heather, haven’t I?” 

He leaned over and ruffled Heather’s hair. “And it’s not only Heather,” he added. “I’ve got Linda to care for as well, along with the fact that we’ve found out that we’re excepting.” He patted her tummy for emphasis. “I’ve got better things to do than be the studio’s childminder.” 

“Really?” Ringo asked him. “Linda’s really having a baby?” 

Paul beamed. “Yeah, mate, she’s really having a baby. We’ve only recently found out. I would have said something sooner, but I didn’t want to make the announcement over the telephone.” 

He was surprised when Ringo crossed the room and pulled him into a hug. “Congratulations,” he said. “We ought to have a toast?” 

  
  


“If you can find something to drink,” Paul said. “I don’t have a fully stocked liquor cupboard up here, y’know, but I’m sure we can find something that suits us. You can go have a look in the kitchen.” 

“Are you excited to be a big sister?” Maureen asked Heather. “It’s a big job.” 

“It’s the best job,” Heather informed her. “Super excited. Mummy says the baby loves me.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aw, Hettie, you don’t have to worry about him right now,” Paul told her. “I know that he upset you, and he shouldn’t have done that. But he’s not here, okay, duck? We’re going to have a toast to your little brother or sister, doesn’t that sound fun?” 
> 
> “My little sister,” Heather declared. “What’s a toast? Is the baby hungry?” 

“That’s because the baby does love you, Heather,” Linda told her. “I think that we should have a toast,” she agreed, and she curled her fingers around a lock of Heather’s hair. “Paul and I have wanted to add to our family for awhile now, haven’t we, honey?” She asked, and she smiled at him. 

“Yeah, honey, we have done,” he said, and he shifted so that he could kiss her sweetly on the lips. “Our Heather’s been one of our biggest cheerleaders.” 

At the mention of her name, Heather perked. “I want to be a big sister,” she said. 

“We know, duckie.” Paul ruffled her hair. “Want to sit on me lap? Or do you want to stay with Mummy, where you are?”

Heather hesitated. “I--I don’t know.” 

“Why don’t you sit with Daddy, for a little?” She suggested. “I think that he’d like a cuddle with you.” 

“Will it upset the baby?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to upset the baby, Mum.” 

“It’s not going to upset the baby, I promise,” Linda told her, and she ruffled her hair. “The baby will be glad that you’re cuddling with your dad.”

Heather screwed up her face in concentration, and she gave Linda a slow nod. “Okay, Mum. Do you want me to cuddle with you, Daddy?” 

“Come ‘ead, Hettie,” he told her, as he held his arms out for her. Heather crawled over Linda’s lap and settled onto his, her hair practically out of its plait entirely. “You want me to sort this for you?” 

“Can you make it pretty again?” 

“Well, you’re always pretty, darlin’,” he said. “But, sure, I can sort you out.” He leaned over to set his cigarette in the ashtray. “What happened to your plaits, Heath?” 

Heather giggled. “I dunno,” she said. “They just fell out.” 

Linda watched as Paul undid the remains of the plaits. She liked watching him do things like that with Heather, even though Paul didn’t see what the big deal was to her. It had been her and Heather alone for so long, and Linda still marvelled at the little things that Paul did for their little girl. Those things included braiding her hair. 

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” Maureen asked her, and she took up the seat that Heather had abandoned to on Paul’s lap. “He really loves her.” 

“I can hear you, Mo,” Paul quipped. “Course I love her,” he added. “She’s me kid.” 

“Soon to be official,” Linda added. “We’re going to fill out the papers the day that we get married.” She returned her attention to Maureen. “Yes, I’ve never been happier,” she said. “Paul loves me, and he wants to be a father to our daughter, and that means  _ so _ much to me. He’s loved Heather since the moment that they met and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her, to have a father who loves her.” She picked Paul’s cigarette up and took a puff. “Now, we’re going to be expanding our family, and it makes me so happy.”

Linda hadn’t exactly had the smoothest introduction to Paul’s social circle, which had mainly consisted of people whom he’d been friends with when he’d been dating and engaged to Jane, and people who were living lifestyles that didn’t mesh well with the realities that she and Paul were raising a child together. They couldn’t go out and party all night like Paul had been able to do before she and Heather had come into his life. There had also been the other members of the Beatles to consider. Paul claimed that they were his best friends, and maybe he thought they were, but the only one that Linda thought was an actual friend to him currently was Ringo. 

Frankly, she was annoyed at everyone’s behaviour, but Ringo’s was at least tempered by the fact that he was Paul’s friend. 

“I’m sorry about Cynthia,” Maureen said. Linda belatedly realised that she’d been speaking to her. “I understand that she’s been horrid towards you.”

“You don’t have to apologise for her,” she assured her. “Her behaviour has nothing to do with you.” 

“I understand that,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know that...I know what Cyn, and what Pattie, what they’ve been saying...and I don’t I agree with it. I can’t pretend to understand it. I’ve never been in your situation. I just don’t see why they won’t be quiet about it. It isn’t about them, is it? It’s about you, and it’s about Paul, and it’s about Heather.”

“You’re not wrong,” Linda admitted. “It’s not like I’m not used to it, though. My decisions have never been very popular.” 

“But, it’s not any of their business.” 

“No, of course not,” she agreed. “I just hate how it affects Paul and Heather. They’re the ones who get upset. I’m not expecting anyone to automatically like me just because Paul and I are getting married, and I don’t expect that to change just because we’re expecting a child.” She sighed. “It would be nice if it would, of course, but I recognise that some people find my presence to be an imposition.” She shook her head. “I don’t mean you and Ringo. You’ve always been accepting of Heather.” 

“And Zak and Jason are nice to me,” Heather interjected. “They don’t say mean things and make me sad. Not like Julian.” 

“Aw, Hettie, you don’t have to worry about him right now,” Paul told her. “I know that he upset you, and he shouldn’t have done that. But he’s not here, okay, duck? We’re going to have a toast to your little brother or sister, doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“My little sister,” Heather declared. “What’s a toast? Is the baby hungry?” 

“Ah, duck, no. We’re going to have a drink and clink our glasses together,” he said. “I don’t know, actually, though, whether the baby is hungry or not. Why don’t we ask your mummy?” 

“Does she know what the baby wants?” 

“The baby tells us what they want to eat,” Maureen told her. “At least, the boys certainly did. They were very particular when I was pregnant with them.” 

“Oh, wow. That’s so cool.”

“Maybe we can have a cookie?” Linda suggested. “Cookies and milk?” 

Heather nodded. “We made cookies today, Auntie Mo,” she informed their guest. “Chocolate chip, and peanut butter. My favourites.” She beamed. “Does that mean the baby likes some of the same stuff that I do?” 

“Of course,” she assured her. “You really think the baby is a girl?”

“Uh huh,” she said. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I want a sister.” 

“But, duckie, what if the baby’s a boy?” Paul asked her. “Would you be okay with that?” 

She nodded again. “Can we have cookies now?” 

“You want me to help you get some?” Linda asked her. Heather shook her head. “You can’t get them by yourself, sweetie.” 

“Daddy can help me,” she said. “Will you help me, Daddy?” 

* * *

Zak and Jason had woken up, and Heather had been convinced to go play with them outside, which Maureen had insisted on supervising. Paul supposed that that made sense. They did live on a farm, after all. He didn’t want the kids getting hurt. Martha had dutifully trotted after them. 

Linda had fallen asleep on the settee, and he’d carefully tucked a quilt on top of her. He’d been tempted to cart her off to bed, but he didn’t want Heather to notice she wasn’t with him and Ringo in the parlour anymore. It was far easier to just let her have a kip there. 

“I need you to set up the launch party,” Paul told Ringo, as he sparked up a joint. 

“The what?” Ringo asked.

“Y’know, the launch party,” he said, and he pulled a face. “The one for the bloody record. I don’t want to have one but Heather wants us to because she thinks that’s where I met her mum. She doesn’t know that I pulled her at the Bag o’ Nails a couple of nights before.”

“I’ve never put together a launch party before!” 

“It can’t be that difficult,” he said. “Just invite some people that we all know and order some food and have it at Apple,” he told him. “Heather will be happy, no one else will care, and we can call it a day. If we’re photographed together it will stave off those bloody breakup rumours.”   
  


“What about John?” 

“What  _ about _ John?” 

“Is he going to be there?” Ringo asked. “Will he be done with his treatments?” 

Paul shrugged. “I’ll sort him out. He’ll get a day pass.” 

Ringo sighed. “Fine, I’ll throw something together,” he said. “That’s not all.” 

“What do you mean?” Paul asked him warily. “What more could there possibly be? The record is being released, we’re all on a break--”   
  


“United Artists keeps ringing us, trying to get ahold of someone who’s authorised to make decisions,” he said. “I keep giving them the runaround, but--”   
  


“But--”

“Well, it appears they’ve realised that we didn’t actually do the voicing on Yellow Submarine.” 

Paul drew in a deep breath. He forced himself to remain calm. “I seem to recall wanting to do that and the rest of you managing to never find the time,” he said, after a moment. He wanted to scream. “I thought I told you that not voicing our characters would make it unacceptable by United Artists.” 

“You might have--”   
  


“I did!” He hissed, his tone exacerbated. “All we needed to do to fulfill that  _ bloody _ contract was for us to take a weekend to record our parts, and you were the only one who even remotely came close to agreeing.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Now we have a bloody film hanging over us. They could sue, you know? For breach of contract.” 

“I already told you, I’ve been ignoring them.”

“Yeah, well, what about when George answers the telephone? Or when they give Apple a ring and someone authorises a third film?” 

“Do you really think that they’d do that?”

Paul nodded. “Yes, I really think that they’d do that,” he said. “This is unacceptable. I am going to have Lee look at our contracts with United Artists and see if we can’t get out of it...I’m not going to be forced to do some cheesy Western--the only thing I’d even come close to agreeing to do would be a documentary. The truth about us.” 

“That’s brilliant,” Ringo said. “I’ll have something to tell them the next time they call.” 

“What?” 

“That we can do a documentary, of course.”

“I don’t bloody want to do a bloody documentary,” he said. “I was saying that it’s the least unappealing of the options.” 

Paul forced himself to be kind to Ringo. He was his friend, after all, and he knew it wasn’t Ringo’s fault that John and George had utterly refused to lift a finger in regards to having anything to do with Yellow Submarine. They’d been the ones to get them into this mess. Ringo was merely the messenger. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it’s not your fault. I’m just tired of it. Tired of everything I do being viewed as ridiculous, and then having things like this happen…?” He sighed. “I just wanted to be able to enjoy being a dad, y’know? I didn’t think that it was that daunting a task.” 

“If we did a documentary, they could be in it, y’know? Linda and Heather.” 

Paul shook his head. “I couldn’t force that on them. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

“Maybe not force, no, but you could ask them if they wanted to be on it, couldn’t you?”

Paul sighed. “I could, I suppose.”

“That way you’d be able to be with ‘em,” he added. “You’d still be able to be there.” 

Paul frowned. “But this shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” 

“I know,” Ringo said. “Maybe you should see if Lee can get us out of it. I’ll back you.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I should have forced them to go to the studio and record the bloody parts for that stupid film,” he said. “Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this horrible mess.” 

“I cannot believe that your father doesn’t know if he can get us out of that bloody contract,” Paul said in a hushed tone to Linda. Heather was watching the telly in the parlour, and he didn’t want her to realise that he was upset. “I’m not angry with Lee,” he assured her. “I’m angry because I told John and George that we couldn’t decide not to record our parts in that bloody picture and have it count as an option to fulfill our contract, and they ignored me.” He brandished his cigarette in the air. “Now, we’re going to be stuck doing a bloody film.” 

“I thought that Dad said that you could probably buy your way out of it,” Linda remarked. “Why wouldn’t you just do that? Wouldn’t it make the most sense?” 

Paul sighed, and he looped his arm around Linda’s waist. “It might make the most sense, but the rest of them won’t agree with that,” he said. “John’s still angry at me for daring to agree that he needed to seek treatment, so he’s never going to see the side of reason. Ringo still thinks that if we have some time apart things will go back to normal, and I’m not sure how well that’s going to work if we have a camera crew in our bloody faces.” He pulled a face. “Them I could possibly convince if only because they’d want me to stop whinging about it. The real issue is George.” 

“George?” Linda asked, and she glanced up at him. “I thought he was reasonable?”

“Not when it comes to giving up money,” he told her. “He’ll have a bloody fit.”

“So he’d rather do something that makes everyone miserable than part with some money?” 

“I would be very surprised if he felt otherwise.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I should have forced them to go to the studio and record the bloody parts for that stupid film,” he said. “Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this horrible mess.” 

“You can’t blame yourself for what they didn’t do,” she told him. “If you have to be in a movie, you have to be in a movie.” 

“What if it’s a documentary?” Paul asked. “Would you be in it?”

He shifted so that his hand covered her abdomen. “I’d like you to be in it, y’know. You’re me baby.” 

“What about Heather?” 

“Her too, if she wants to be,” he said. “I’m not going to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.” 

“I don’t think that it would be forcing her, Paul,” Linda told him. “She’s your daughter, she  _ wants _ to do things with you. I think it would hurt her feelings if you didn’t ask her if she wanted to do it with you, if that was what it came down to.” 

Paul sighed. “Hettie?” He called out, hoping she could hear him over the television. “Can you come out here?” He returned his gaze to Linda. “I don’t want to upset her, y’know. She’s our daughter.”

“I’m coming, Da!” Heather said in response. 

He could hear the sounds of her getting off the settee and crossing the room to turn off the telly, and he ashed the remains of the cigarette he’d finished smoking into the ashtray. He lit up another one. He’d been so certain that he’d been misreading the contract and that there was a way to get out of it, and for Lee to have told him otherwise had been rather disheartening, to say the least. Truthfully, it was also annoying. It bothered him that he’d been ignored, and brushed off, and his larger points had been proved correct. 

Heather skipped over to them, Martha hot on her heels. “What is it?” She asked him, before she turned her attention to Linda. “Can I say hi to the baby, Mummy?” 

“Of course you may, sweetie,” Linda told her, and Paul watched as she took Heather’s hand in hers and placed them both on her abdomen. He wished that the baby was able to kick. “Papa has something that he wants to ask you, okay?” 

Heather nodded, and she smiled up at him. Her fringe was starting to cover her eyes, but he thought it only made her more adorable. 

“What happened, Daddy?” 

“Nothing’s happened, duckie, I was just wondering if you’d be interested in being in a film with me,” he told her, and he squatted down so that he was on her level. “We might have to do another picture to finish our movie contract, and I thought maybe you’d like to be in it? What do you think?” 

“Would I be with you?” Heather asked him. “I’ll do it if I can be with you.” 

“Yeah, luv, you’d be with me,” he promised her. “I wouldn’t let them film you without me there, and I’d be with you the entire time. I just don’t want to exclude you, y’know? You’re my daughter.” He grinned as she kissed him on the cheek. “You’re my best girl, y’know that?” 

Heather giggled. “I know that I’m your best girl. Would I be on the telly again?” 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” He asked her. “Being on the telly with me and Mum?” 

Heather nodded. “It was so fun! You told everyone about me!”

“Of course I did,” he said, and he gave her a kiss. “You’re my daughter. I want people to know who you are.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she said. “What about Mummy and the baby?” 

“Well, Mummy will be there, but I think that the baby might still be in her tummy,” he told her. Heather pouted. “Ah, duck, but it’s okay. We’ll make sure to tell the baby all about the picture we were all in together.” 

“That seems fair,” she said. “I’ve never been in a movie before.” 

“Neither have I, Heather,” Linda told her. “And we don’t know if we’re going to be. We have to wait and see something about your father’s contract.” 

“What’s that?” 

Paul sighed. “Nothing, duck. Just some daft thing that you don’t need to worry about. It’s grown up stuff, y’know? Very boring.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Will you watch telly with me?” 

Paul quirked his lips into a grin. “Sure, duckie. Just me? Or me and your mum?” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I asked Santa for a daddy,” she whispered, almost embarrassed at the memory. “Every year. I mean, I guess I had a dad once, before you,” she allowed. “But, I don’t remember him. He left and moved to Africa to play with rocks.” She shook her head. “Everyone on the telly had a daddy,” she continued. “And Mummy had a daddy, too, even though he’s my grandpa. So I’d ask Santa for one because I didn’t know why I didn’t have one.” 
> 
> “Well, it looks like Father Christmas got you what you asked for,” he told her. He kissed her forehead. “What a good pressie.” 

“Daddy?” Heather asked Paul, having successfully located him outside of the farmhouse. “What are you doing?” 

“I was fixing the roof up a bit,” he told her. “Y’know, it’s cold out, and I don’t want us to freeze when we’re staying here.” 

Heather nodded. It made sense that he’d want to make sure that they didn’t get a hole in the roof. She had discovered that Scotland was much colder than New York was, even though it had snowed in the city, too. 

“Mummy said that Christmas is coming soon,” she told him as she watched him climb down off the ladder. “Are we really going to see your  _ whole _ family?” She reached out for his hand. 

“When we go to my dad’s?” He asked her. She nodded. “D’you want me to pick you up?” Heather nodded again, and she let out an excited squeal, pleased when he scooped her up and into his arms. “Yeah, duck, I think the whole lot of them will be there,” he said, and she heard him sigh. “Are you okay with that?” 

Heather hesitated. “You’ll be there, right? The whole time? You’ll tell them who I am?” 

“What, do you think I’d throw you to the wolves?” He asked her. She shrugged her shoulders. She’d like to think that he wouldn’t leave her alone with a bunch of strangers, but they  _ weren’t _ strangers to him, so maybe it would be different. They were, however, definitely strangers to Heather. “I’m not going to do that, Heather,” he said. “Of course, I’ll tell them who you are. You’re my daughter.” 

Heather liked hearing that she was Paul’s daughter, especially when her dad said that himself. She knew that he was going to adopt her once he married her mum, and she couldn’t wait, even though she didn’t fully understand what it meant. All that mattered to her was that he was her dad. She liked having a dad. 

“I asked Santa for a daddy,” she whispered, almost embarrassed at the memory. “Every year. I mean, I guess I had a dad once, before you,” she allowed. “But, I don’t remember him. He left and moved to Africa to play with rocks.” She shook her head. “Everyone on the telly had a daddy,” she continued. “And Mummy had a daddy, too, even though he’s my grandpa. So I’d ask Santa for one because I didn’t know why I didn’t have one.” 

“Well, it looks like Father Christmas got you what you asked for,” he told her. He kissed her forehead. “What a good pressie.” 

“Do you think they’ll be nice to me?” 

Heather was unsure what to make of her dad’s family. She liked Grandpa Jim an awful lot, and she liked playing with Ruth, who was a couple years older than her, but Angie was so mean. She wanted Heather to call her Grandma, even though Heather didn’t want to at all. She  _ wasn’t _ her grandma. Daddy called her by her first name. 

“Yeah, I think they’ll be nice to you,” he told her. “It’s nerve wracking, meeting new people, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t like it,” she said. “I mean, I want to meet them,” she assured him. She didn’t want to be rude to his family. “It’s just scary. I don’t know them.” 

“Yeah, but, y’know, I know them,” he said. He gave her a quick kiss. “So, maybe it’s not so scary as it could be? I’ll be there with you, and I won’t make you introduce yourself to them on your own, y’know, because they’re my relatives, but, I promise that even though meeting them might be frightening, they’re really not that bad.” 

Heather found herself pondering his statements. He lit up a cigarette. “I guess that they’re not scary,” she told him. “I mean, you know them. You’d know. And you said that they’re not.” 

Heather didn’t think that her dad would lie to her. He was her dad. Still. It didn’t hurt to be cautious. 

“What about Angie?” She asked him. “I don’t want to call her Grandma,” she said. 

“Sod Angie,” he said. “Mummy and I, we’ll sort it out, I promise you. You won’t have to worry about her, okay?” 

“Okay,” she said in agreement. “But you really think that your aunts and your uncles and your cousins will like me? Will Uncle Mike and Auntie Angela be there? I like them.” 

“What’s not to like?” He asked her, and he grinned a toothy grin at her. “I’m sure that they’ll like you,” he promised. “I love you, and that should be all that matters to them. Do you want me to give Dad and Angie a ring? Mum and I can talk to them and tell them that you don’t want to call Angie your grandma, and I’ll see to it that they respect that.” 

Heather worried her lower lip. “You’d do that?” 

“I don’t want you to be upset, Hettie,” he said. “I’d rather call and give them the what for. That way we don’t have to get into it over the holidays, y’know?” 

“You can call them,” she told him. “I meant--you ring them up. I want to be with Mummy.” 

“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t we ask Mummy if she wants to have a cuddle with you in bed? Maybe she’d like to, y’know? Would you like that?” 

Heather nodded. “Would you come in after the phone call?” 

“Of course,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about that, I don’t mind having a kip with my girls.”

Heather liked when Daddy called her and Mummy his girls, and she told him so, content to remain in his arms as they headed into the house. Mummy was in the parlour, a book in her hand. 

“I see you found your father?” She asked Heather. 

“Yes, Mummy,” she said. “He was outside. Fixing the roof.” 

Mummy closed the book and set it aside, and she rose to her feet. “Well, Daddy’s in luck, because I think that he’s rather attractive after he’s been doing hard work like that.” She watched as she crossed the room to stand beside them, and gave them both a kiss. “You didn’t mind your little shadow, did you?” 

“No, of course I didn’t mind,” Daddy said. “Listen, Lin, Heather wants to have a cuddle with you while I ring up me dad and his wonderful wife.” Heather could tell by his tone that he didn’t find Angie to be wonderful in the least. “She’s being awful again, and I want to have it sorted out before we have to stay there.” 

“I think a cuddle would be lovely,” Mummy told her. “Do you want me to carry you?” 

Heather did. “Please, Mummy.” 

“Of course,” she said, and she reached her arms out to take her from Paul. Heather wrapped her arms around her, and kissed her on the cheek. “Do you want Daddy to join us when he’s done on the telephone?” 

“He promised,” Heather said. “Yes.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“I’ll only be a few moments,” Paul told Linda, and he offered her an apologetic smile. “I just want to get to the bottom of this, y’know? I don’t want Angie thinking that it’s acceptable to speak to our daughter like that.” He reached his hand out and stroked Heather’s hair. “I won’t have her speak to our daughter like that, or to this little one,” he corrected, as he slid his hand beneath the material of Linda’s jumper to lay his hand on her abdomen. “She’s not me mum, and I don’t care for her to presume to be telling our children what they can, or cannot, call her.” 

“You don’t have to apologise, Paul,” she told him, and she brushed her lips to his in a brief, chaste, kiss. “I don’t blame you for this.” 

“I should have told her that she wasn’t going to be Heather’s grandmother from the start,” he said, and he let out a sigh. “I really am sorry about this, Heather. Let me go sort it out and I’ll come and join you and mummy, okay?” 

“Are you mad at me?” Heather asked him. “You seem sad.” 

Paul shook his head. “No, duck, I’m not mad at you,” he said, in what he hoped to be in the vein of a reassuring tone. “You’re not the problem here,” he assured her. “That would be Angie. She had no right to undermine what your mum and I told her was and what wouldn’t be acceptable.” He ducked his head down to kiss Heather’s. “I’m not sad,” he told her. “I’m angry. But not at you. I promise.” 

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep Mummy company while you’re having your conversation. Me and the baby will.” 

Paul managed to smile at Heather. He thought it was sweet how much she cared for her mum. It was sweet how she included the baby in her caring. 

“You and the baby will take good care of your mummy,” he told her, and he ruffled her hair. “I know that you will.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Linda told him. She kissed him again. “You’re stalling.” 

Paul let out a sigh. “I’m not stalling,” he told her, as he repositioned his hand. “What makes you think that I’m stalling?” 

“Because, I know you,” she said. “You don’t enjoy talking to your stepmother, and that’s fine,” she told him. “I don’t particularly like speaking with mine, either, you know. It’s tough,” she said. “I get that. But would you rather get the conversation over with now, or have to do it while we’re staying there for Christmas?” 

“Yeah, I’ll do it now,” he said, after a moment. He reluctantly pulled his hand away from her abdomen. “You let me know if she gives you any trouble?” Paul crouched down so that he could directly address the child inside of her. “You behave while I’m on the phone,” he said. “I don’t want to hear from your sister that you’ve been naughty.” 

He heard Heather giggle. “You reckon you’d be capable of that?” He asked her. “You’ll come get me if your mummy gets sick?” 

Heather nodded. “Yes, Da,” she agreed. “Even if you’re on the phone?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, Mummy’s more important,” he said. He leaned in and gave her belly a kiss. “I love you, kitten.” 

“Is the baby a moggy?” Heather asked him. Her eyes were wide. “Mummy, I didn’t know you were having a moggy.” 

“No, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he told her, and he pulled himself to his feet. “I just wanted to call the baby that, y’know, like I call you duckie? It’s a pet name.” 

“Maybe Santa will bring you a kitten for Christmas,” Linda suggested. “Come on, let’s go settle in bed, so Daddy can make his phone call.” 

“I want Santa to,” Heather insisted. “Thank you for calling, Da.” 

“Yes, thank you for calling,” Linda told him. She squeezed his hand. “It won’t be so bad. Heather will appreciate it.” 

Paul knew that he had to telephone his stepmother, but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. He waited until Linda had carried Heather into the bedroom before he made his way into the kitchen, and over to the telephone. He lit up a smoke, and he started to dial the number. He hoped that his father wouldn’t answer. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Jim’s excuses for Angie. They were tiresome, and he didn’t entirely believe him when he said them. 

The line engaged on the other end. “Hullo?” He said into the receiver. “Is this Angela McCartney?” 

“No, this is Ruth. Paul?” 

“Oh, hullo, Ruth,” Paul said, forcing himself to put his ire aside for a moment, for the sake of his sister. “Yes, it’s me. I was wondering if your mum was home. I need to speak with her.” 

He heard a loud sigh. “You never ring to talk to me,” she said. “Why not? I thought you were my brother.” 

“Okay,” he said. “We can talk before I talk to her. You’re right. I haven’t rung you up lately, and that’s not fair.” 

“Where are you?” Ruth asked. “Are you home?” 

“No, Ruth, we’re in Scotland,” he told her. “Linda and I have taken Heather to Campbeltown for a couple of weeks, and then we’re going to come round to yours for the Christmas hols.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She’s looking forward to seeing you, y’know?”   
  


“Heather is?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I reckoned that she’d y’know, bunk in with you, if that’s what you want?” 

“It sounds fun! Are you only coming for one day?” 

Paul sighed. “No, I think that we’ll be there for a couple,” he said. “More than one. I’m not sure beyond that.”

“Okay,” she said. “I know you’re busy. With work and stuff. Will you play with me when you come over?” 

Paul felt guilty. “Yeah, Ruth, of course,” he said. “I’ll play with you. I don’t mind, y’know. I’ll play with you and with Heather.” 

“Why do you want to talk to Mum?” Ruth asked him. 

“She’s n--” Paul forced himself to stop the sentence he wanted to say, and he clenched his fist when he did. “I just want to talk to her, that’s all. Can I?”

“Uh huh,” Ruth said. “Let me get her.” 

“Thanks, Ruth,” he said. “I’ll see you in few days.” 

He lit up another cigarette. “Paul?” Angie said into the telephone. “Is that you?” 

“Yeah, it bloody well is me,” he said. “I’ve called to tell you that I don’t want Heather to call you Grandma. She’s not your granddaughter, and she never will be.” 

“What are you talking about?” Angie asked. “Just because she’ll never really be yours?” 

“What do you mean by that?” Paul demanded. “She bloody well  _ is _ really mine, Angie. I don’t give a bloody toss about the fact that Linda was married before, that that man might technically be Heather’s biological father. He left her. He left them. I’m the only father she’s ever going to know. How dare you?” 

“How dare I what?” 

“How dare you marry my dad and have him adopt your daughter and have the cheek to say that my daughter isn’t mine?” Paul spat, his patience dwindling. “What’s the difference, huh? You came into Dad’s life the second that I moved to London, and you expect me to what? Call you mum? Let my daughter call you grandma? No,” he corrected himself. “You want me to force Heather to call you that. Did you know that she doesn’t want to?” 

“Your daughter?” Angie echoed. “How can you say that when she’s already got a dad?” 

“The same way that you can say that my father is Ruth’s,” he said. “So it’s fine with you that Dad adopts  _ your _ child when you get married, but suddenly it’s not fine for  _ me _ to adopt Heather? Why? And don’t give me that bollocks about how Heather’s father is alive. He’s not her bloody dad, Angie. His rights were rescinded.” 

Paul heard her draw in a breath, clearly intending to speak, and he barrelled onward. “I don’t care that my dad adopted Ruth,” he said. “She’s my sister, and I love her. It’s you that I can’t bloody well stand. I had a mother, Angie. I loved my mum, and she died. I never got to say goodbye to her. You have no right to try to fulfill that role, for me, or for my daughter, or any children that I might have.”

He stubbed out the cigarette, and lit up another. “It would be one thing if Heather wanted to call you that, but, she doesn’t. She says that you’re forcing her to. That’s bullshit, Angie. I wouldn’t do that to Ruth. She calls me her brother because she wants to. Not because I make her. I’m not going to force Heather to do something that makes her feel uncomfortable! Do you understand? Don’t bloody ever do it again.” 

“Paul, I--”

“What do you have to say in your defence?” Paul demanded. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ll see you on the Christmas hols.” 

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t know that she wasn’t his mum,” Heather said after a moment. “When I called her that. I thought that she was his mum. I didn’t know that Grandma Mary had died.” 

Linda settled Heather on the middle of the king-sized bed that they had in their bedroom, and she bit back a sigh at the muffled sounds she could hear from the kitchen. She wasn’t angry with Heather, of course, far from it. She was, however, annoyed at Paul’s stepmother. How dare Angela demand such things from Heather? She was a young girl. 

“Are you going to sit with me?” Heather asked her, her voice barely above a whisper. It was obvious from her tone that she thought that Linda was angry with her. “Mummy? Are you?” 

“Of course, honey,” she said. “I just wanted to give you a chance to get yourself the best spot on the bed, that’s all.” 

“The best spot on the bed?” Heather echoed, her tone subdued. “That’s between you and Daddy,” she informed her. “I like to cuddle with you both. Da’s called it a Mummy-Daddy sandwich,” she told her. Heather let out a sigh. “He won’t want to do that now.” 

“Why would you say that?” Linda asked, feeling rather confused. She climbed up onto the bed, and propped herself up with her pillows. “Your dad loves you.” 

“I made him call Angie,” Heather reported, as she curled up with Linda. Linda wrapped her arm around her, trying to comfort her. 

“I know that Daddy doesn’t like Angie,” Linda said delicately, her hand stroking Heather’s hair. “But why do you think that you’re the one he’s upset with?” 

“Because,” she said after a moment. “I don’t want to call her Grandma.” 

“Daddy’s not angry with you for that, Hettie,” she whispered. “Why would he be?” 

“Because he had to ring her up!” Heather exclaimed. “I didn’t want him to have to call her!” 

Linda drew in a deep breath. “Heather, this isn’t your fault,” she said, and she tightened her hold on her. “Daddy needed to call Angie because she behaved in a manner that we, as your parents, disagree with. You’re not in trouble for what happened. Even though you’ve called her Grandma before. Daddy’s not mad. I promise.” 

“I didn’t know that she wasn’t his mum,” Heather said after a moment. “When I called her that. I thought that she  _ was _ his mum. I didn’t know that Grandma Mary had died.” 

“I understand,” she said, and she rubbed her back. “No one is angry with you about this. I promise.” She kissed the top of Heather’s head. “Daddy probably should have told you that Angie wasn’t his mother,” she admitted. “But, you have to understand, Heather, that he’s been brought up not to talk about it, to push his feelings about what happened to his mum deep down inside of him instead of bringing them up. He probably didn’t even realise that you would think Angie was his mother.” 

Heather sniffled. “That’s  _ sad _ , Mummy,” she whispered. 

“I know it is,” Linda agreed. “Daddy might be sad when he gets off the phone,” she warned her. “And that’s okay.” 

“Can we have a Mummy-Daddy sandwich with him?” Heather asked her, the sadness of her tone having been replaced with curiosity. “Do you think it might make him feel better? If we cuddle with him and tell him we love him?”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Linda told her. “I know that Daddy likes to cuddle with you.” 

Heather’s eyes lit up. “He does?” 

Linda nodded. “He does, Hettie. He loves you. You’re his daughter.” 

“I love him, too,” Heather whispered, and Linda smiled down at her as she placed her hand on her abdomen. “Do you think the baby loves him?” 

“Of course the baby does,” she said. “I’m sorry that the baby won’t be a moggy, sweetie.” She kissed Heather’s forehead. “I know that you like Daddy’s cats.” 

“I do! But it’s okay,” she said. “I want a baby, too.” 

“You’re sweet,” she whispered. “You’re going to be the best big sister.” 

“You promise?” 

Linda nodded. “I promise. What do you want? A brother or a sister?” 

“If the baby’s a girl, can we name her after Daddy’s mummy?” Heather asked her. Her hand didn’t budge from its position on Linda’s abdomen. “Do you think that we could? Do you think that he’d like that?” 

“I--”

“Like what?” Paul interjected, and Linda cringed inwardly at the level of despondence that could be heard in his tone. “What’re you talking about?” 

“We’re just talking, Paul,” she assured him. “We can discuss it later.” 

Heather shared no such qualms, and she pulled herself away from Linda in order to launch herself at her father. 

“We were talking about the baby,” Heather informed him, pleased by her new position in his arms. 

“Were you?” Paul asked her. “What about the baby?” 

“I told Mummy that if the baby’s a girl, we should name her after your mummy,” she said. “After Grandma Mary.” 

“Why would we do that?”

“We don’t have to,” Linda assured him. “It was only an idea, and I don’t even know if you’d feel comfortable--”   
  


“Lin,” he said, his tone subdued. “I don’t mind if we name the baby after me mum. It’s not going to upset me, y’know. She’s my mum.” He kissed Heather on the cheek. “Why don’t we sit down with Mummy, duck?”   
  


“Will you let me sit on your lap?” 

“You can sit on my lap, yeah, sure,” he said, and Linda watched as he lowered himself so that Heather could safely climb out of his arms and settle on the bed, before he joined them as well. “Come here,” he told her, reaching his arms out for Heather. She scrambled onto his lap. “I’ve sorted things out for you. You don’t have to call her anything if you don’t want to.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

Linda had assumed that Heather had been satisfied with her assurances that neither she nor Paul were angry with her, but she figured that there wasn’t any harm in her asking Paul for his opinion on the subject. 

“Why would I be mad at you?” Paul asked her. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Heather. She’s the one who’s done wrong.” 

  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know that Daddy loves me,” Heather said quietly. “But did my old dad? The one that I had before?” Heather fixated her gaze on her lap, and Linda thought her heart might break. “Daddy couldn’t come to my birthday parties because he didn’t know I existed yet, but the one who moved away does.” Linda watched her swipe her hand across her face. “Didn’t he?”
> 
> Linda worried her lower lip. “Mel is gone, Hettie,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about him, not anymore.” 

“Because I thought she was your mum,” Heather whispered, as she settled back against Paul’s chest. “I didn’t mean to think that she was your mum, I got confused because Ruth is your sister.” 

Paul sighed. “That doesn’t mean that I’m angry with you, Heather,” he said. He wrapped his arm around her middle, hoping that the increased contact would comfort her. He hadn’t meant to cause her any distress, even inadvertently. “Maybe I should have told you that Angie was only my stepmum.” He drew in a deep breath. “No, not maybe,” he said. “I should have done that.” 

“Is Ruth still your sister?” Heather asked him. “I mean, since Angie’s not really your mum?” 

Paul ducked his head to kiss her hair. “My dad,” he told her, his fingers idly working their way through her hair. He was attempting to distract himself. He really disliked having to talk about his father’s relationship with Angie, and he was forced to remain impartial because he didn’t want to say something horrid and upset his daughter. “My dad, uh, y’know, when he married Angie, he adopted Ruth. He’s still me dad, y’know, so that makes her me sister.” 

“He adopted her?” Heather’s tone was curious. 

He nodded. “Yeah, he adopted her after they got married,” he said. “Uncle Mike and I were much too old to be adopted, though. We were all grown up. I was living in London! It would have been silly for Angie to adopt us like Dad had adopted Ruth.” 

“So, he adopted her, like you’re going to adopt me?” 

Paul really hated the comparison that Heather had made, but he supposed that it made sense that she’d make it. She was only five, after all. 

“Yeah, exactly like that,” he said. He kissed her again. “Are you excited for me to adopt you?” 

She nodded. “So excited,” she told him, bouncing slightly. “But you’re my dad anyways, right? While we wait?” 

“Heather, I’ve been your dad since your mummy told me that she’d have me as your dad,” he said, in what he hoped was an assuring tone. “I love you. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m your daddy, just as much as I am the baby’s daddy.” 

At the mention of her younger sibling, Heather grinned up at him. “I love the baby.” 

“Yeah?” He asked her. “Well, I love the baby too, y’know.” 

“What about Mummy?” Heather asked him. “Do you love her?” 

“I love your mummy so much,” Paul told her, and he stretched his arm out so he could hold Linda’s hand. “Every day I realise there’s another reason why I love her.” 

“Is that so?” Linda asked him. He nodded. “Really, Paul? Every day?” 

“Every day,” he confirmed. “You gave me the answer, to love eternally.” He squeezed her fingers. “Maybe it’s daft, y’know, but I really love you, Lin. You, Heather, the little one that’s inside of you. You’ve given me something of a purpose.” 

Linda shifted so that she was on her knees, and she gave him a kiss on the lips. “It’s not stupid, Paul,” she said. “I don’t mind giving you a purpose.” 

He kissed her back. “I didn’t really think that you’d mind,” he assured her. His hand slid up and settled on her abdomen. “You’d really be okay with it?” 

“Okay with what?” Linda asked him. He felt her hand cover his. “Paul? What is it?” 

“Okay, y’know, with Heather’s suggestion,” he mumbled, his gaze locked on the duvet that covered the bed. “That we consider naming the sprog after me mum.” 

He felt her hands cup his chin, and he managed to look her in the eyes. 

“I think it’s a sweet idea,” she told him. “But, only if you’re comfortable with it. I would hate to make you upset.” 

Paul didn’t want Linda or Heather to notice that he was upset, so he decided that it was best to pretend that he wasn’t. It was daft to be upset over it, anyways. 

“I’m not,” he protested. “I’m not upset, Linda,” he said. “I want to name the baby after me mum. I do.”

He heard Linda sigh. “Something is bothering you,” she said. “Is it about what happened on the phone? What did your stepmother even say to you?” 

“Just some bullshit,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I understand that,” she said. “No one  _ wants _ to talk about the things that are bothering them, Paul, but it’s important for you to do so. We make Heather talk about the things that upset her, don’t we?” 

Heather responded before he could muster up a token protest. “You make me talk about them all the time,” she said, and she let out a sigh. “Why do you make me talk about it if you don’t have to?” 

Paul sighed, and he shifted so that he could grab a cigarette from his pack. “I’m not allowed to talk about things that bother me,” he said after a moment. “It’s different for you, Heather.” He lit the cigarette, brought it to his lips, and inhaled deeply. “Mum and I...we want to know what’s bothering you.” 

“But why’s it different?” She demanded. “We want to know why you’re sad.” 

“Yeah, you and Mum might,” he allowed, as he made fast work on the cigarette. He discarded the butt into the ashtray and lit up another. “My dad’s going to lit in on me for that telephone call. I shouldn’t have told Angie I was upset about my mother.”

Paul didn’t want to tell Heather the comments that Angie had made about her not being his daughter. They were untrue, and he didn’t want her hearing what she said and believing it. She was his daughter, regardless of any piece of paper that stated otherwise. Adoption was a formality for them. He knew that it meant a lot to Heather, the potential of being legally a McCartney, and he didn’t want her to think that Angie’s beliefs were shared by others. They weren’t. 

Heather had shifted on his lap so that she faced him, and she’d wrapped her arms around him. “You can be sad,” she told him. “About your mum,” she added in clarification. “You can be sad about her.” 

“I can’t help it,” he said after a moment. “I believe you, y’know? It’s just hard for me because I’ve never known how. We were told to get on with things. Uncle Mike and I went to school that day.” 

“Your father sent you and Mike to school? The day that your  _ mother _ had died?” Linda sounded a touch incredulous. 

He shrugged his shoulders. “Of course he did,” he told her. “Why wouldn’t he have done?”

“Your mother had died.” Linda bore an expression of disbelief. “Why didn’t the two of you stay home?” 

“My dad didn’t know how to handle us, Lin, it wasn’t a big deal.” 

Paul couldn’t tell if the expression on Heather’s face was due to her hatred of the schools she’d been to or because she was genuinely upset about what he had mentioned, but he wrapped his arm around her, wanting to hold her close. 

“What’s wrong, duckie?” He asked her, his tone subdued. “Do you not like when I mention school?” 

“Why did Grandpa Jim make you and Uncle Mike go to school?” Heather asked him softly. 

“He wasn’t in a position where he could get us a private tutor,” Paul told her. “I didn’t mind school. I did all right.” 

“I meant, why did he make you go after your mum died?” Heather said, and he heard her stumble over the question. “Why did he do that?” 

“Isn’t that what you’re meant to do?” 

“Paul,” Linda interjected. “What are you talking about? No, you’re not meant to just go on with your life the very day that your parent has died. I don’t doubt that dealing with his loss and having to try to navigate dealing with your and your brother was hard on your dad. That doesn’t give him the right to have just what? Told you your mother died and said that your lunch was in the bag by the door?” 

“I got in trouble at school because I couldn’t concentrate,” he mumbled, and he focused his gaze on the ceiling. He hated that he could feel the tears forming over something so daft. “I couldn’t concentrate because I didn’t know what we were going to do. How we were going to live. It’s not like Dad ever made much money. Why do you think I had to buy him a new house? We made more money than him the first time we went to Hamburg.” 

“Hamburg?” Heather asked him, and she tugged at his collar. He forced himself to look in her direction. “What’s Hamburg? Is it like a cheeseburger?” 

“No, duck, it’s a city in Germany,” he said. “We did a couple of tours there, y’know? Ages ago.” He tweaked her nose. “Before you were even born.” 

“Really?” Her eyes were wide. “Before I was born?” 

Paul nodded. “We first went there in 1960,” he told her. “That’s two years before Mummy had you.” He held up two fingers to show her what he meant. “We did our last residence in 1962.” 

“That’s the year I was born!” 

Paul nodded, and he managed a smile. “Yeah, and y’know what? Our last gig there was on your birthday.” He kissed her softly. “I think that’s pretty brilliant.” 

“You do?” Heather asked him. “Why?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I think it’s a connection that we have, y’know? You and me.” He tugged at a strand of her hair. “You excited for your birthday?” 

Heather nodded. “So excited!”

“Me too,” Paul assured her, his tone brightening. “Have you got any special requests?”

Heather shook her head. “I just want you to be there,” she whispered. “I’ve never had my dad there for my birthday before.” 

“Well, you know that I’m going to be there, Hettie,” he assured her. “I’ll always be there on your birthday, I promise. No matter what.” 

She kissed his cheek. “I know,” she said. “Can we have a cake? Mummy?” 

“Of course we can have a cake,” Linda said. “You want a chocolate one?” 

Heather nodded. “My favourite. With frosting?” 

“Of course, with frosting,” Linda told her. “Do you want to help me make it?” 

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Me  _ and _ Daddy.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Paul had fallen soundly asleep, thankfully out of exhaustion rather than from tears, and Linda contemplated simply joining him. A nap sounded positively lovely, and if it had been solely her and Paul to consider, she would have fallen asleep in a heartbeat. But, it wasn’t just the two of them. She had to consider what was best for Heather. 

Heather wasn’t asleep, though she was sprawled out on top of her father, seemingly content to be in his arms. Linda couldn’t resist reaching for her camera and snapping a photograph of the sight. She knew that Paul adored Heather, and Heather him. It was just nice to see them looking like a father and a daughter. 

“What are you doing?” Heather asked her, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you taking our picture?” 

Linda nodded. “I am,” she said. “Do you mind?” 

Heather shook her head. “No,” she said. “I like when you take my picture. Especially when I’m with Daddy.” 

She smiled at her. “I like when I take your picture, too,” she said. “Are you hungry?” 

It was getting close to the time that they normally fed Heather lunch, and she didn’t want her to get too much off schedule. Even though Paul was sleeping, and she’d have to feed him later, it was important for her that Heather get properly fed. 

Heather nodded. “A little bit,” she said. “Daddy’s sleeping, though.” She frowned down at him. 

Paul let out a loud snore. 

“He can sleep,” Linda told her. “I’ll make him lunch later. Why don’t we have lunch together, sweetie?” 

“Just the two of us?” She asked. Linda nodded. “Like when we lived in New York?” There was a decided edge to Heather’s tone. “Why don’t you want Daddy to eat with us?” 

“He’s tired, sweetie,” she pointed out. “We can eat together and then come back to snuggle with Daddy, okay?” 

She heard Heather sigh. “Okay, Mum. We can do that.” 

“What do you want me to make for us?” She asked her. “Do you want chicken…?”

“Will you make us omelettes?” Heather asked her. “Not like Daddy made them,” she added. “Make them the  _ right _ way, without cinnamon?” Linda nodded. Paul’s omelettes had been unfortunate. “Can we have eggy bread, too?” 

She smiled at Heather’s adoption of Paul’s term for French Toast, and she reached out and ruffled her hair. 

“Will you help me make them?” 

Heather nodded. “I can be a big help,” she insisted, and she scrambled off Paul to settle on Linda’s lap. Linda kissed her on the top of her head. “The biggest help,” she amended. She placed her hand on Linda’s abdomen. “Hi baby.” 

“That’s sweet of you, Hettie,” she murmured. “Saying hi to the baby.” 

“Daddy says hi to the baby,” she said. “I want to too.” 

“You can say hi to the baby,” she assured her. “I don’t mind if you do.” 

Linda thought it was sweet that Heather wanted to interact with her little brother or sister, and she didn’t want to discourage her moments of affection. She also thought that it was sweet that Heather was watching Paul interact with her and the baby. 

“I think Daddy  _ loves _ the baby,” Heather told her, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I love the baby, too,” she added.

“I know you do,” she said. “So does the baby.” 

Linda didn’t know if the baby really knew that it was loved by so many people, but she knew that Heather would be pleased to hear that it loved her. That was the important thing, wasn’t it? Heather feeling loved and assured? Linda thought so.

Heather let out a quiet sigh. 

“What is it, honey?” Linda asked her. “Are you okay?” 

“I know that Daddy loves me,” Heather said quietly. “But did my old dad? The one that I had before?” Heather fixated her gaze on her lap, and Linda thought her heart might break. “Daddy couldn’t come to my birthday parties because he didn’t know I existed yet, but the one who moved away does.” Linda watched her swipe her hand across her face. “Didn’t he?”

Linda worried her lower lip. “Mel is gone, Hettie,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about him, not anymore.” 

“Did he love me, though?” 

Linda found herself cursing the decision that she’d made from the moment that she’d realised Heather was inside of her to always be as honest as possible in response to questions that she was going to have. There was nothing wrong with the truth, and Linda of course strove to always be truthful, but how was she meant to explain what Mel had done to her child? Heather was five. She wasn’t a teenager. She was a five year old who wanted Linda to tell her a lie, and Linda couldn’t bring herself to do so. Heather was smart, and knew when Linda was lying, 

“Some people, they aren’t meant to be parents, Hettie,” she settled on, after a moment. “Mel, he was one of them. I don’t think that he didn’t love you...he just didn’t know how to be a dad.” She sighed. “He wanted to go on digs in Africa. It’s not an excuse, but...we stood in his way.” 

“So it wasn’t because I’m bad?” 

She shook her head. “You’re not bad, Hettie,” she assured her. “You’re a sweet, lovely, girl. Paul loves you. He wants to be your dad, Heather. He’s willing to adopt you, and--”

“I don’t even know what that means, Mum,” she interjected. “Isn’t it just me getting Da’s last name?” 

Linda glanced over at Paul, who was still soundly asleep. “Well, that’s part of it,” she said. “Why don’t we go out to the kitchen? We can start making lunch, and we can talk while we’re doing it. Okay?” 

Heather nodded. “I don’t want to wake up Daddy. He looks tired.” 

Paul was soundly asleep. Linda didn’t want to wake him either. 

“Come on,” she told Heather, and she climbed off the bed, sticking her feet in her slippers. “We’ll go make lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Heather said. Linda smiled when she slipped her hand into hers. “Will you explain adoption to me?” 

“Of course I will,” Linda told her. 

They headed out into the kitchen and Linda got all of the supplies needed to make omelettes and french toast out of the fridge and cupboards, and she placed them on the kitchen counter. Heather was a great help, but Linda didn’t necessarily want her carrying over the eggs on her own. Not only was she afraid Heather might accidentally drop them, but she was too short to lift them properly onto the counter. There was, however, something Heather could carry over: the bread. 

“Will you get that for me?” She asked her. “Do you want to make the whole loaf?” 

Heather nodded. “Yes, a whole loaf of eggy bread,” she said. “Daddy likes it. It might make him happy.” 

At the mention of Paul’s title, Linda offered her a fond smile. She reached out and ran her fingers through Heather’s hair. 

“You can dip the bread into the egg mixture, okay?” Linda offered. “You can stand on the chair.” 

“Okay, Mummy,” she said. “I’ll do a good job.” 

“Do you want cinnamon in the toast?” She asked her. “Or do you think that Daddy wants it plain?” 

Heather had returned, the bread under her arm. “I don’t think he’ll care,” she said. “He bought us golden syrup the other day. He said that it’s like maple syrup, but they don’t have that here.” 

“When the two of you went to the grocers?” Linda asked her. She nodded. “Thank you for going with him, you were a big help.” 

“He said that you needed to take a nap,” she said with a sigh. “Does the baby make you tired?” 

“Sometimes,” she said, as she busied herself at the cutting board, chopping the vegetables and meats into little pieces. “But, it’s okay, sweetie. It just means that the baby’s growing. It’s normal. What do you want in your omelette?” 

“No mushrooms,” Heather told her, as she stood on the chair beside her. “And no peppers. I don’t like them.” 

“Do you want to talk about the adoption?” Linda asked her. Heather nodded. “What about?” 

“I just don’t get it,” she said after a moment. “He lets me call him Daddy, isn’t that good enough? I heard Grandpa and Uncle John talking about how my old dad didn’t want either of us, how he signed some papers when Uncle John found him?” She shrugged her shoulders. “But Daddy  _ does _ want us, and the baby. Doesn’t he?” 

“Grandpa and Uncle John shouldn’t have been talking like that around you,” Linda told her, trying to keep her temper under control. She was unamused. “But, yes, of course Daddy wants us and he wants the baby. That’s why he’s going to adopt you, Hettie. He’s your dad regardless of the adoption, but adopting you means that everyone is going to know that he’s your dad. That’s important.” 

“I want everyone to know he’s my daddy,” Heather told her, and she squeezed her hand. “Do you really think he can adopt me?” 

Linda nodded. “We’ve sorted everything out so that he can,” she assured her. “I promise.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s what Daddy told me,” Heather told her. “That the baby is gonna look up to me.” 
> 
> “Daddy’s right,” she said. “The baby’s going to love you, it’s going to look up to you, and you’re going to be its big sister. Nothing else is going to matter to the baby, I promise.” 
> 
> Heather drew in a raggedy breath. “Are you sure? What if we look different? What if she looks like Da?”

Heather considered what her mum had told her, and she gave a slow nod. “I don’t have to see my old dad, do I?” Heather didn’t want to see him, but she would do it if it meant she’d be able to be adopted by Paul. She  _ wanted _ to be adopted by Paul. At least he loved her and cared about her. Her old dad had never had. “To be adopted by Daddy?” 

“No, honey, you don’t have to see him,” Mum said to her, and Heather grinned as she ruffled her hair. “Are you okay with that?” 

She nodded. “I don’t want to see him,” she said. “I’ve got a dad.” 

“You always will have a dad,” Mum told her. “I promise.” 

“Why did Grandpa Jim send Uncle Mike and Daddy to school after their mummy died?” Heather asked her, unable to hide the incredulousness in her tone. “I don’t understand. Their mum had died. Weren’t they allowed to be sad?” 

Heather heard Mummy let out a sigh. She watched as she started preparing the omelettes. It was clear to her that she was trying to collect her thoughts, and she was willing to be patient. Maybe what Grandpa had done confused Mummy, too? She supposed it was possible, even though Mummy was a grown up, like Daddy, and Uncle Mike, and Uncle John back in New York. 

“Sometimes, when a person dies, and we’re really sad, because we loved that person,” Mummy said, after a moment. “We make choices that don’t necessarily make sense to us when we’re not in a state of grief. Like sending Daddy and Uncle Mike to school the day that Grandma Mary died.” 

“So I shouldn’t ask about it?” 

Mummy shook her head. “I know that you’re confused, sweetie, and that you have a lot of questions. I just don’t think that asking Grandpa Jim about it is the best idea. I think that you can ask me, and you can ask Daddy, though,” she said. “Would that be okay?” 

“I don’t like that Daddy gets sad, though,” she admitted. “He’s my dad. I don’t like it when you get sad, either,” she added. She sighed. “Can I crack the eggs for you?” 

Heather liked to help Linda cook regardless of what was going on, but she knew that it was even more important to help her out in the kitchen since she was pregnant. Daddy seemed to think that it was important, at least, so that meant that she was willing to do an extra special good job so that they could avoid...cinnamon omelettes. Heather didn’t think that the baby in Mummy’s tummy would like them very much. 

“Of course you may,” she told her, and she ruffled her hair again. Heather preened. “You’ve been very helpful, sweetie. Thank you.” 

“When will the baby come?” 

Heather had to admit that she was curious about her baby sibling, who was snuggly inside of their mummy. Not that she could really tell that there was a baby in there. Mummy didn’t look like Aunt Angela did, and Heather knew that  _ she _ was having a baby, because Uncle Mike had told her that she was going to get a little cousin. Heather didn’t exactly know what a cousin was, but she hadn’t wanted to ask. Everyone had seemed excited by the news, but they’d been at Grandpa Jim’s house, and Heather did her best to remain invisible when she was around Grandpa Jim’s wife. 

“Mmm?” Mummy hummed, her tone non-committal. “What, sweetie?” Heather had cracked the eggs for her, and she was mixing the chopped vegetables and meats in with them. “Which baby?”

“Yours,” Heather told her. “Before, or after, Aunt Angela’s?” 

“After,” Mummy told her. “Angela should be having the baby any day now, if she hasn’t done so already,” she said, and she covered her abdomen with her hand. “Your little brother or sister isn’t due until the summer.” 

“But that’s so far away,” Heather whined. “All it does is make you sick.” She sighed. It wasn’t fair.

“It won’t make me feel sick forever,” Mum told her. Heather scowled. “No, honestly, Hettie, it won’t. In a few months, the baby will start to kick, even.” 

“Yeah, for Daddy,” she said. “Why would it kick for me?” 

“Because, you’re the baby’s big sister,” she told her. “I promise, the baby will kick for you, and for your dad.”

“Daddy talks to the baby while you’re sleeping,” she added. “Do you think that the baby would want me to?” 

Mummy smiled at her. “Does your dad?” 

“Uh-huh,” she said, pleased to have been able to tell her mum something she didn’t know. “So much. Sometimes he sings to the baby. I think he’s embarrassed, though. I think that’s silly.”

“I think that he’s sweet,” she said in response. “Don’t worry, Hettie. I’ll make sure to tell him that it’s okay to talk to the baby. You can, too.” 

Heather contemplated this. “I can talk to the baby? Like Daddy does? And the baby will want to kick for me?” She eyed her mother with curiosity. “Will you tell me when it does?” Heather asked her. “And let me feel it?” 

Mum nodded. “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about that.”

“Do you think that it will like me?” 

“Of course the baby will like you,” her mum told her, taking a moment to lift her up into her arms for a cuddle. “You’re going to be the baby’s big sister, sweetie. The baby’s going to love you.” 

“That’s what Daddy told me,” Heather told her. “That the baby is gonna look up to me.” 

“Daddy’s right,” she said. “The baby’s going to love you, it’s going to look up to you, and you’re going to be its big sister. Nothing else is going to matter to the baby, I promise.” 

Heather drew in a raggedy breath. “Are you sure? What if we look different? What if she looks like Da?”

“That’s not going to be a problem, sweetie,” Mum told her. “You look like me. The baby won’t even question things like that, honey, because Paul is your dad. That’s all they’ll know about.” 

“Do you promise?” 

Mummy nodded. “I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you.” She hugged Heather tightly. “Do you want me to put you down so you can dip the toast for the eggy bread?”

Heather nodded. “Cinnamon eggy bread,” she reminded her. “You promised.”

“You’re right,” she told her. “Of course, we’ll have cinnamon eggy bread. Maybe we should wake up Daddy, once the food is ready? Do you want him to join us?”    
  


Heather nodded, as she carefully dipped the slices of bread in the egg mixture and placed them on the griddle. She understood that Daddy was tired, and was okay with him sleeping while she and Mummy cooked together, but it was important for him to eat. 

“I can wake him up,” she told her. “I can! I can jump on him.” 

“Het--”

“You want to jump on me, duckie?” Daddy’s voice interrupted her mum’s, and she glanced over in the direction of the kitchen door. “That would’ve certainly woken me.” 

“You should be sleeping,” Mummy told him. “I hope we weren’t too loud.” 

“You weren’t too loud, Lin,” he said. “I’m hungry. Thought I’d see what you were cooking.” 

“We’re making omelettes and eggy bread,” Heather told him, pleased that he was awake. “Mum, can I go see Da? I’m all done with the bread?” 

Paul had come over to where they had set themselves up, and Heather craned her head so she could see him. “Looks like you’ve both got it under control. Have you been a help to Mum?”

“She’s always a help to me,” Mum told him. Heather preened. “How about a kiss, mmm, Papa?” 

Heather heard Daddy chuckle, and she watched as he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her mum, who had turned away from the stove to give him a proper kiss. Daddy made Mummy happy, and Heather liked that. She had been so sad for such a long time. Mummy had always done her best to try to hide that from her, but she had still noticed. She’d insisted that she wasn’t sad, and that Heather didn’t have to worry about her, but Heather noticed that she giggled a lot more, now that she had Daddy.

“I’ll snog ye whenever you want,” she heard him say, and she wondered what ‘snog’ meant. Some of the words that he used were so funny. “How’s the sprog treatin’ ye?” 

Daddy had placed his hands on Mummy’s waist, and Heather noticed that his fingers splayed across her tummy. 

“I feel okay,” Mummy told him. “Just hungry, right now.” 

“That’s good,” he told her. “I worry about the two of you, y’know? I don’t want ye to be feeling poorly.” 

“I know that you’re worried,” she said. “It’s normal, Paul. Being sick. It means that the baby is healthy.” 

“It does?” Heather interjected. “Why?” 

Heather didn’t like that the baby made Mummy feel unwell. She was scared of it. It wasn’t fair that the baby did that to her mum, even if Mummy insisted that it was fine. Why would the baby want to make Mummy sick? Didn’t the baby love Mummy? Heather loved her so much.

“Doesn’t the baby love you?” She asked, continuing her line of questioning. “If the baby loves you, why does it make you feel sick?” 

“Mum says it’s normal, duck,” Daddy told her. “That’s right, isn’t it, Lin?” 

Heather watched him tuck a strand of her mum’s hair behind her ear. “Mummy? Is it really normal?” 

“We’re fine, sweetie,” Mummy told her. “It’s just something that has to happen for the baby to grow. It’s normal, it’s called morning sickness.” 

Heather sighed. “If it’s called morning sickness why do you have it at night? Didn’t the baby bother you last night?” 

Mum and Dad exchanged a glance. “You...sweetie, you noticed that?” 

She nodded. “You were in the bathroom for a long time,” she informed her. “I got worried.” 

“I had Daddy to take care of me,” Mummy said. “He’s been a great help.” She ruffled her hair. “You did it too, you know?”

“You didn’t  _ have _ Daddy, then,” Heather pointed out. “You didn’t have anyone.”

“I had…I had you, Hettie,” she said. “I wanted you, so badly, and it didn’t matter to me that I was alone, sweetie, because I had you, and you were all I needed.” 

Heather worried her lower lip. “You won’t leave, will you, Da? I don’t want Mummy to be alone.” 

“I’m not gonna leave ye, or your mum,” Daddy told her, and he moved away from her mum in order to approach the chair that she was still stood on. “I promise, Hettie. You’re both stuck with me until I’m old and grey.” 

In spite of herself, Heather giggled. She couldn’t picture Daddy as old and grey, and even though she knew it was bound to happen, the thought struck her as funny. 

“Will you pick me up?” Heather asked him. “Please?” 

“Do you still need our Heather’s help, Lin?” Daddy asked Mum. Heather grinned toothily at his reference to ‘our Heather’. 

“I think the two of you could help set the table,” Mummy said in response. “I can handle the rest of the cooking.”

* * *

  
  
  


Paul scooped Heather up into his arms, and he puckered his lips for a kiss, pleased when his little girl obliged him with one. He loved her so much. 

“You were really going to wake me up by jumping on me?” He asked her. 

Heather giggled. “Uh-huh,” she said, and the warmth of her breath tickled his cheek. “I thought it would be funny.” 

“I dunno,” he told her, and he quirked his lips up into a grin. “I reckon that that might hurt a bit. I mean, it’d have gotten me up,” he allowed. “But you shouldn’t jump on people when they’re not expecting it, y’know?” 

“Oh,” she said, her tone rather subdued. “I didn’t realise it would hurt you. I’m sorry, Da. I didn’t mean to.”

“Aw, duck, cheer up. You didn’t hurt me. How were you meant to know that it’d hurt?” He smoothed out her hair. “Tell ye what,” he said. “If you want to wake me up in future, I’d love to be woken up with some cuddles.”

Heather’s pout lessened. He pecked a kiss to it. “Ye like cuddling with me, don’t you?” 

She nodded. “With you, and with Mummy,” she said. “And with the sprog.” 

“The baby’s gonna love you,” Paul told her. “I reckon it does already.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure about what?” Paul asked her. He was confused. “What’re you asking if I’m sure about?” 

“That the baby’s going to love me,” she whispered. “Mummy said that the baby won’t care that I don’t look like you and she said that the baby is gonna look up to me and stuff but is that really true?” 

“I don’t look like my brother,” Paul pointed out. “I look like me dad, he looks more like me mum’s side of the family. The baby won’t care, Heather. You’ll just be their big sister. That’s all the baby will care about. Plus, you look like your mum. I love your mum. She’s beautiful, and so are you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Heather’s eyes lit up. “Like Mummy?” 

“Yeah, duck, you’re beautiful like Mummy.”

Heather grinned at him. “Mummy is the most pretty Mummy in the world.” 

“She is,” he agreed. He nuzzled her nose. “We ought to do what Mummy asked us to do, y’know, to help her out.” 

“Okay,” she agreed. “I have been a big help,” she told him. “I helped Mummy make eggy bread for us and I helped her crack the eggs for the omelettes.” Heather continued to chatter about how much she’d helped her mother prepare them their lunch while he carefully lowered himself so that he could place her on the kitchen floor. “Why are you putting me down?”

“Just for a little bit,” he told her. “I don’t want to have to juggle ye and the plates. I’d hate to drop one of you.” He heard her sigh. “Why don’t you help me?” He offered. “You can carry over the silverware?” 

“Okay,” she whispered. “I can help you and carry the silverware.” 

Paul worried his lower lip. Clearly Heather was upset about something. “Come ‘ere,” he told her. Heather did. “What’s the matter?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing,” she told him. “I just wanted you to carry me.” 

“I will,” he told her. “I just wanted to make sure that we set the table without any mishaps, y’know?” He kissed her on the forehead. “Y’know that, right?” 

Heather nodded. “I know,” she said. “Can I sit on your lap when we eat?” 

“Yeah, it’s okay with me,” he told her. “You’d like that?” 

Another nod. “You’re my dad,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, y’know,” he said, and he ruffled her hair. “I know that you didn’t have a dad for a long time, duckie, and I’m sorry about that. I wish Mummy and I had met sooner so I could have been your dad sooner. You’re me biggest baby, y’know? No matter how many brothers and sisters Mummy and I give you.”

Heather drew in a shuddering breath. “So, you don’t care that I’m not really yours?”

Paul put the plates down on the table. “Heather, what are you talking about,” he asked. “You are mine.” 

“That’s not what everyone else says!” Heather exclaimed. “You say that your my dad and I’m your daughter but no one else thinks so! All they say is that I’m your girlfriend’s daughter from her first marriage. The girls that hang out in front of the house, the people that talk about us on the telly--”

“I told you, not to pay them any mind,” Paul told her, somewhat horrified that Heather was taking what those people said to heart. “They don’t know us, Heather. They’re spouting nonsense.’ 

“That’s what you said about the kids at school, too,” she snuffled. “I believe you, but why did John agree with them? They were so mean and he said you were playing at being a family man, and something I didn’t understand about Mick Jag--”

“I remember, Heather,” Paul interjected. “John said things that were untrue because he was angry at me, not because he believes them.” Paul didn’t know if that was true, but he was willing to bend the truth to allow Heather some comfort. “He lashed out because he was involved in a conversation that hurt his feelings, so he wanted to try to hurt my feelings as well.” 

“So he was saying those things to be mean?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, he was,” he said. “Sometimes people can say mean things. That doesn’t mean what they said is true, just that they wanted to say things that hurt people’s feelings.” 

“What about the people on the telly?” 

He sighed. “Look, Heather, that’s what  _ they _ think,” he said. “It’s rubbish, if you ask me. You’re my girl. Just because they want to be factually correct, or whatever they are, doesn’t mean that it’s what your mum and I believe.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she told him. “You promise that the baby will love me?”

“I promise,” he said. “Mummy and I wouldn’t lie to ye.”   
  


Heather nodded. “I wish the baby was big enough to kick for us,” she told him. “I told Mummy that you like to talk to the baby when she’s sleeping.”

Paul felt himself blush. “You know about that?” 

“Uh-huh, you say such nice things to the baby,” she chirped. Paul was pleased she appeared to be in a better mood. “About me and Mummy.”

“That’s because I love you and your mummy,” he told her, idly tickling her tummy. Heather let out a squeal. “I love you, and I love mummy, and I tell the baby that so they can love you too.” 

Paul loved being a dad. He loved being Heather’s dad, and he couldn’t wait to be a dad to both her and the baby that was on the way. 

“Daddy?” Heather asked him, through peals of laughter. “Did Aunt Angela have the baby yet?” 

“Oh, I dunno the answer to that,” he told her. “I’ll give them a ring, how’s that sound?” 

  
  



	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul realised that Heather was still sat on his lap, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lin, I shouldn’t have said those things around her."
> 
> “You don’t have to apologise,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie to us. Not about things like this.” 
> 
> “I can’t--I’m not supposed to talk about it,” he muttered. He extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray and lit up a second. “They shipped me and Mike off to me auntie’s and we were upset about what happened to our mum, and they told us that our dad was having a hard enough time with it and us being upset would make him feel even worse than he already did. Didn’t we want Dad to be okay?” He shrugged his shoulders. “What were we meant to say to that? He was our father. Of course we wanted him to be okay.” 
> 
> “You were children,” Linda said. “What an inappropriate thing to ask of two children who had just lost their mother.” 

“Are you going to call him now?” Heather asked him curiously, and Paul shook his head. “What? Why not?” 

“Because, duck, we’re about to eat,” he said. He gestured at the table that they’d set together, and then at the food that looked (and smelled) like it was nearly cooked. “You and your mum worked so hard on this, y’know, and I want to enjoy it. I’ll give Mike a ring after we tuck in.” He ruffled her hair. “You okay?” 

“Do you think the baby will like me?” She asked him. “Not Mummy’s baby,” she added. “The baby that Uncle Mike and Auntie Angela are having.” She grinned at him. “I know that Mummy’s baby will love me, you and Mummy promised me that.” 

Heather settled on his lap, as she’d requested, and Paul lowered his head to kiss the top of hers. 

“The baby is going to think you’re brilliant,” he told her. “You’re going to be the best cousin ever.” 

“I don’t know what that means,” she admitted. “What’s a cousin?” 

“Oh,” he said. “Well, y’know, Mike’s me brother, and the baby is my niece or my nephew, and that means that you and the baby are cousins. When the baby in mummy’s tummy is born, they’ll be cousins, too.” Linda had crossed into his field of sight, and he smiled up at her. “Hullo, Mummy,” he said. “You need any help from us?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know that the food’s almost done,” she told him. “You want anything to drink?” 

Paul shook his head. “Just a cuppa tea,” he told her. “Other than that, I’m sorted.” 

“What about you, Hettie?” Linda asked Heather. “Do you want a cup of tea like your dad?”

Heather nodded. “Please, Mummy.” She glanced up at him. “I heard you on the phone earlier,” she said. “Are you angry at me?”

“Why would I be angry at you?” Paul asked her. He ran his fingers through her hair. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Heather. If you don’t want to call Angie Grandma, I’ll come to your defence. I don’t care what she has to say about it, or what my dad has to say about it.” He flexed his other hand into a fist. “She had no right to force you to call her that,” he insisted. “No right at all.” 

“But, you were mad on the phone,” she pointed out. “We heard you.” 

“We just had a disagreement,” Paul told her, and he did his best to modulate his tone. There was no need to traumatise his own child over something that she couldn’t control, especially since Paul was going to make it a non-issue. “I was putting her in her place.” 

“Over what?” Heather’s tone was curious. “Is she mad at me?” 

“She’s not mad at you,” he assured her. “We just don’t get on, that’s all. So we had a disagreement.” He shrugged his shoulders, and reached for the pack of cigarettes he’d left on the table. A pack of matches sat beside them, and he lit one in order to light up his smoke. “It’s got nothing to do with you, Hettie, I promise.” 

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just don’t like the person my dad replaced my mum with, that’s all.” With that settled, Paul let out a quiet sigh. He puffed on the cigarette.

Linda shot him a worried look. “Paul.”

“What?” 

“You don’t have to minimise  _ every _ feeling you have,” she told him. “You know that, right?” She placed the cups of tea down on the table in front of him and Heather, and he watched her dry her hands on the apron she’d tied around her waist. “Heather and I don’t think any less of you for having feelings.” 

He took a sip of the tea. “It’s stupid to be upset over,” he said. “It’s over, it’s done, being angry over it won’t bring my mother back, will it?” 

“No, of course it won’t,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean that you should be angry over it, Paul, but you are allowed to grieve your mother. I don’t care what your father, and what your aunts, wanted you and your brother to do. You were children!” The volume of Linda’s voice was rising steadily. “You were only fourteen, Paul. How old was your brother?” 

“Twelve, but--”   
  


“I can understand not wanting to give the two of you intimate details,” she said, as she plated the food, her anger visible in her actions. Paul had never seen someone handle omelettes and eggy bread with such vitriol before. “That was her decision, I suppose. How dare your parents deny you and your brother a chance to say goodbye?” 

“She wasn’t  _ meant _ to die!” Paul exclaimed. “Me dad--”

“Are you sure about that?” Linda asked him. “I’m not trying to be cruel, but given that your father thought sending the two of you to school the day your mother died was appropriate, I find the fact that your mother just went from the picture of health to--”

“She knew, okay?” 

“What?” 

“My mother,” he said. “She knew that there was something wrong with her. She had to have known. She was a nurse, Lin, she was a midwife, she’d been trained in this sort of thing, and she had to have known that something was wrong with her, and she’d what? Ignored it and thought that it would go away?” He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Mike saw her crying,” he told her. “She wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. She told him that everything was all right. When we went to visit her in hospital, there were spots of blood on the bed.” 

Paul realised that Heather was still sat on his lap, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lin, I shouldn’t have said those things around her.” 

“You don’t have to apologise,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie to us. Not about things like this.” 

“I can’t--I’m not supposed to talk about it,” he muttered. He extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray and lit up a second. “They shipped me and Mike off to me auntie’s and we were upset about what happened to our mum, and they told us that our dad was having a hard enough time with it and us being upset would make him feel even worse than he already did. Didn’t we want Dad to be okay?” He shrugged his shoulders. “What were we meant to say to that? He was our father. Of course we wanted him to be okay.” 

“You were children,” Linda said. “What an inappropriate thing to ask of two children who had just lost their mother.” 

“Dad was really upset, Lin, he couldn’t take care of us,” Paul told her. “He was crying all the time. I think he could barely work.” Heather shifted on his lap, and she wrapped her arms around him. He enveloped her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“It’s okay to talk about upsetting things,” Linda told him. “I think she’s trying to comfort you.” 

Paul still felt guilty. He didn’t like the thought of Heather being upset about something that he should have gotten over years ago. It wasn’t fair to her. He was a father, and he needed to act like it, not rend garments over something that had happened when he was fifteen. 

“I shouldn’t have gotten so upset,” he said. “Or even brought it up. It’s done. It’s in the past, y’know.” 

“This is your mother we’re talking about,” she told him. “We’re not talking about your old pet goldfish.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. Heather’s weight on his chest comforted him. “Do you talk about your mum?” He asked Linda. He wasn’t sure what the answer would be. “I mean, your family.” 

“Of course we do,” she said. “What happened to my mother was tragic, Paul, but we don’t avoid talking about it, or about her. Even around Heather. You know about Grandma Louise, don’t you, Hettie?” 

Heather nodded, her face pressed against him. “Mummy named me after her,” she said. “That’s why I thought you could name the baby Mary. If it’s a girl.” 

“I told you,” Paul told her, and he rubbed her back. “I think that’s a brilliant idea.”

“Do you  _ want _ a girl, Daddy?” Heather asked. Paul was grateful for the change of topic. “Or do you want a boy?”

“Whatever mummy has will be brilliant,” he told her, and he shifted his hand in order to caress Linda’s tummy. There wasn’t anything there to feel yet, but he knew that their baby was inside of her. “Whatever you are, I love you so much.” 

Heather’s palm covered his. “I love you, too, baby,” she whispered. “I don’t care what you are either.” 

“Aren’t the two of you sweet?” Linda commented. “Do you feel up to eating?” 

Paul nodded. “I didn’t have brekky,” he told her. He gave her a sheepish grin. 

Heather made an outraged noise. “Daddy!”

“What, duckie?” Paul asked, and he kissed the top of her head. 

“You need to eat breakfast. I mean brekky. It’s important.” 

He felt his cheeks flush. “I’ll do better, duck,” he said. “I want to eat the food that you and mum made.” 

Heather preened. “We worked so hard on it,” she said. “Mummy did more.” 

Linda made a noise of protest. “You worked hard, too,” she told Heather. “Why don’t you tell Daddy what kind of eggy bread we’re having?”

Heather nodded. “We’re having  _ cinnamon  _ eggy bread,” she told him. “With golden syrup. I know that you normally have  _ regular _ eggy bread with ketchup, but Mummy said that we could make it the way we used to have it when we lived in New York.” 

“Oh, are we?” Paul asked her. “That’s brilliant, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Maybe Mummy and I can teach you how to make it?”

“Yeah? Yeah, y’know, I’d like that,” he told her. “That’s a brilliant idea, duckie. I’d love to cook with you and your mum.”

“But, no cinnamon omelettes again, right, Paul?” Linda asked him, her hand seeking his out. “I mean, I think we can agree that’s an experiment that none of us want to repeat?”

Paul blushed. “I’d never made an omelette before,” he told her. “I didn’t do much cooking at all. It was my mum’s job, and then it became my dad’s.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Then I moved to London and never had to bother to learn to cook, y’know? The people I lived with handled the cooking.” Paul could hardly imagine how Mrs. Asher would have reacted to him attempting to cook in her kitchen. He missed her sometimes, even though he didn’t miss Jane. She’d been like a mum to him. “Even when I moved into my own place I had Jane, when I was home to have a home cooked meal. I wasn’t home a lot, y’know.” He offered Linda a sheepish look, before he turned his attention back to his plate. “It looks delicious, Lin. You and our girl did a good job.”

Lunch passed without incidence, much to Paul’s relief, and the food was delicious. Linda’s cooking often was, of course. Paul thought that she was a brilliant cook -- the best, if you asked him -- and he rather quite enjoyed home cooked meals, lovingly made by his future wife. 

“The eggy bread tastes delicious,” he assured Heather. She had yet to move from his lap. He didn’t mind. “Cinnamon eggy bread tastes much better than cinnamon eggs.” 

Linda giggled. Heather beamed. Paul managed to smile at himself. 

“Are you going to call Uncle Mike?” Heather asked him, once they finished eating. “I want to find out if Aunt Angela had the baby.” 

“I will,” Paul told her. “You want me to call now?” Paul hoped that she’d say no. The last thing he wanted was Heather inadvertently offending his brother with her questions about their childhood. He knew that Heather was only curious, but Mike might not have. 

“Yes,” she insisted. “I want to know.” 

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’ll give him a ring.” 

Heather climbed off his lap and he pushed the chair back so that he could stand, collecting their plates at he did. There wasn’t any need to make Linda do the cleanup as well. He’d suggested that she rest on the settee while he and Heather cleaned up after the meal. Obviously, he was going to do the majority of the clean up, being the adult, but Heather could still help. 

The telephone rang, and Paul almost jumped from shock. He wondered who it could possibly be. 

“I want to answer the phone,” Heather told him. 

“No,” he said. “Let me. I don’t know who’s calling us. If it’s someone you know I’ll let you speak to them.” He reached for the telephone receiver that she held in her hand. “Hullo?” 

“Paul?” Mike’s voice could be heard on the other end of the line. Paul breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you there?” 

“Yeah, hi, Mike,” he said, and he tugged Heather close to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who was ringing me up, y’know? How’s everything?” 

“Everything’s fine,” Mike said. “I’m sorry to bother you on your holiday,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know that Angela’s had the baby. We were wondering if you and yours wanted to come meet her.” 

“I’ll have to ask Lin--”   
  


“Daddy!” Heather exclaimed. “I want to see the baby!”

“I know you do,” Paul told her. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I just meant that I’d have to ask Mummy when she’d like to go visit.” 

“Is that Heather?” Mike asked him.

“Yeah, Mike, that’s Heather,” he answered in the affirmative. “She’s excited to become a cousin,” he told him. “Aren’t you, duck?”

Heather nodded. “Super excited, Da. I’m going to be the best cousin ever.” 

“Does she want to talk to me?”

“I don’t know,” Paul said. “I’ll ask her. You want to talk to Uncle Mike?” He asked Heather. 

She nodded. “You should ask Mummy when we can see the baby.” 

Paul nodded. “I will, darling.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Ringo had come to the conclusion that the rumours about the winter being unseasonably warm had to be false. He was pretty sure that he was on his way to becoming a human icicle, in spite of the mocking presence of the sun in the sky. 

It had been a mistake to wear his jean jacket. It was December, after all.

Ringo shivered. He regretted his decision to not put on a warmer jacket when he’d left Sunny Heights earlier that day. How was he meant to know that he’d be standing on the front steps to the Priory with Paul for the greater part of an hour, while the younger man refused to go into the building. What had started out as a brisk, yet sunny, day was vastly turning into an opportunity for him to get a nasty chill. 

He let out a sigh. 

“What?” Paul demanded. “I told you, I’m not going in.” 

“And, I told you, John keeps asking about you,” he told him, in an attempt to be patient. “I’ve been telling him that you and the girls are up in Scotland, but he knows that you’re back in town.”

“Only because my brother had a baby,” he snapped. “If the bloody press hadn’t been camped out in front of my house looking for any sight of me, we wouldn’t be here. Why does John even have access to the papers in the first place?” 

“What papers?” Ringo asked. “George told him.” 

“Of bloody course he did,” Paul groused, his tone dark. “Can’t he bloody well keep his mouth shut? Hasn’t he done enough damage to my sanity? Not to mention what he did to John’s. Telling him that I would be open to giving things a go in India because meditation would ‘open me mind’ to things, and because I’d been rowing with Jane. Never mind that I’d already told John  _ numerous _ times that there was never going to be anything between us because I like birds. Now he’s keeping tabs on me? You ought to tell him that George made a mistake. That I’m not here. I can’t go in there and pretend that I want to visit with him.” 

“Well, I didn’t like the retreat either,” he said. “The food was awful, and all those flies? Mo is still having nightmares about them.” 

“Oh, let me guess,” Paul said flatly, as he paced back and forth on the step he was stood on. “You haven’t heard what happened. How he thought that because we were in India I’d be open to him...wanting things from me? I told him that I wasn’t going to do that and I reminded him that I was engaged to Jane, y’know, because at the time I was! We were going to get married. And he’s trying to put the moves on me like being in India was going to change the fact that I pull birds. I like birds, and I don’t like blokes. And I’m sorry that that isn’t what he wanted to hear, and I’m sorry that I upset him, but I’m tired of him slagging me, and my girlfriend, off. Especially in front of our daughter!” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Ringo was starting to regret his decision to not question why Paul had asked him to accompany him when he went to visit John. 

“Haven’t you heard him?” Paul demanded. “I get it, I rejected him. He wants to lash out and treat me terribly. Why’s he involve them? What did Heather or Linda ever do?”

“Have you told John that?” Ringo hated to ask, but he wanted to make sure. “Paul?”

“Of course I have,” he said. “He always manages to make it about him!”

“This is ridiculous,” Ringo told Paul, hoping his tone make his feelings about Paul’s request clear. “Why can’t you visit John?”

“Because he made me angry,” Paul spat, as he brought a cigarette to his lips. “I don’t understand why he thinks that it was acceptable to start talking about the things that he was talking about while Heather was sitting there.” 

“What are you talking about?” Ringo dreaded to ask. “What did he say?”

“The day that he was forcibly dragged to the Priory, he was all in a strop because Mimi didn’t like being kept in the dark about little things, like, y’know, the fact that her nephew was seeking a divorce from the mother of his child, and the fact that John had a shiny new significant other that he hadn’t bothered to introduce to her.” Paul rolled his eyes. “I pointed out that she was allowed to be angry at him for these things and suddenly he’s spouting off nonsense about how I’m only going to father Heather until I grow bored with it and then he says that I have no room to judge him because I’m dating Mick Jagger’s sloppy seconds. I don’t care that Linda slept with Mick. I care that Heather was right there and she heard him.” 

“She doesn’t understand what that means,” Ringo pointed out. “She’s five. What does she know about body counts.” 

“She understood the part about John believing I’d grow bored with being her dad!” Paul exclaimed. “How do you think that made her feel? Her biological father fucked off to Africa to go dig up rocks and Linda’s father and brother had to go on a global search for the bloke so Linda could have her marriage dissolved based on abandonment. He couldn’t even be arsed to ask after her when Linda called him to tell him that she’d found someone who loved Heather, and wanted to adopt her. Even John pretends to care about Julian.” Paul flicked the cigarette butt and lit another. “She’s my daughter. She’s not some pawn that John’s allowed to use to try to manoeuvre me into doing what he wants.” 

“I understand that, Paul, but--”   
  


“But, what? Heather doesn’t understand why me mates can’t stand her and her mum,” he said. “You’re the only one that hasn’t made her or Linda feel awful. She wants them to like her! I told her that people would like her if she and Lin came here with me, and I look like a bloody liar. Those kids at school bullied her so badly that Linda and I had to pull her out! Then I bring her to work with me and everyone is on their absolute worst behaviour. Then George is telling John that I’ve come back to town so I have to make up excuses for where I am because she’d want to visit him. She thinks this is a bloody castle.” 

“Where did you say that you were?” 

Paul ran his hands through his hair. “I told Linda the truth. I told Heather I needed to do some last minute shopping at some very boring stores on the high street.” 

“And you don’t think that bringing them with you would have been a good idea?” 

“I did that the last time,” Paul muttered. “Cyn was there, it was awkward. I don’t want to put them through it again. I’m not ashamed that John’s in here. I just worry that he’s not taking things seriously, and that he’s not getting better. I mean, look at what happened to Brian.” 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wouldn’t that make your problems with Heather a non-issue? If you married now?” 
> 
> “Now?” Paul echoed. “I can’t spring it on Linda like that. What if she’s not feeling up to it?” 

“Brian was a reasonable person--”

“That’s my point,” Paul told him. “Brian had his issues, yes, but at least he recognised that he had a problem! He wanted to try to make himself better. Just because it didn’t work out the way that we all wanted it to doesn’t mean that he didn’t make an attempt. John wouldn’t even be in here if he had his way.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“I mean, he doesn’t understand why this is a problem he has to deal with,” Paul said, his tone somewhat exasperated. “You’d think that a person who was addicted to heroin would have more of a grasp on how serious it was, but if he’s not treating it like a lark, he’s either casting blame on me for not returning his feelings, or his mother for dying, or for all of us not understanding that he’s just “trying junk to see how it feels”.” He rolled his eyes, and lit up his umpteenth cigarette of the day. “I just feel there’s things you try on a lark, and things you avoid because you have some degree of common sense. My mother died and you don’t see me picking up an opioid addiction!”

“Well, your family was normal, weren’t they?” Ringo asked. “I mean, compared to John’s?”

“Compared to John’s? Compared to John’s, they were saints,” he told him. “Lin, she says that it wasn’t normal of them to send me and Mike off to school the day that Mum died, that they should have allowed us time to grieve.” He shook his head. “I dunno what to believe. Who knows if that’s true or not?” 

“Well, did you want to go to school?” 

Paul thought about it, and he shook his head. “Of course I didn’t,” he said. “My mum was dead. Why would I have wanted to go to school?” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I dunno what to say, really. It’s not what I wanted to have happen, but should I bring it up? What’d be the point?” He sighed. “And my stepmother’s being awful again,” he added. 

Part of him was stalling to avoid visiting John, and he knew that, but he also wanted to talk about what had happened when he’d spoke to Angie, especially since Heather wasn’t around to hear and get the wrong idea of things. 

“Awful?” Ringo echoed. “What did she do?”

“She’s made Heather call her grandma, and Heather told me and her mum that she doesn’t want to,” he said, and he drew in a shuddering breath. “So I told her that I’d handle it properly like, y’know, and I gave her a ring to put a stop to it, and we got into it. I told Heather it was only a disagreement and that it was okay, I’d settled things, but I don’t think that she really believed me and I didn’t want to tell her what we’d argued over. She told me that I had no right to tell Heather that she wasn’t her grandmother when I’m only playing at being her dad.” He shook his head. “I told my dad that the adoption wouldn’t be made official until Lin and I got married in confidence. Where the hell did he get the idea that that meant telling her? I’d like to bloody well know the answer to that.” He scowled. “I hate that that wanker is still controlling Linda’s life even after he abandoned them, y’know? Our being married shouldn’t have to be a contingent to Heather being a McCartney. I know that Linda loves me and I don’t want to feel obligated to become a McCartney herself, so long as our kids are McCartneys, and so long as she loves me, what’s the big deal? It’s only a piece of paper.” He ran the hand that didn’t hold a cigarette through his hair. “It’s important to us that Heather’s adoption is done proper, and right, though, so I guess that’s the convention. Heather wants to be a McCartney, y’know, and that’s what Lin and I want as well.” He sighed. “I just didn’t want it becoming public knowledge. If Angie knows...who else does?”

“You need to speak to your father about this,” Ringo interjected, once Paul had paused for breath. “Maybe not about the fact that your family handled your mum’s death so terribly,” he corrected. “But you need to tell him that he wasn’t meant to tell your stepmother that information about Heather.”

“She wouldn’t want me to bring it up,” he mumbled. “She  _ hates _ that it’s not enough for her to just call me dad and be done with it. I don’t want to go around causing a scene over it. It will upset her. She’s my daughter. I went to him for advice!”   
  


“I know you did,” he said. “Look, I know that Heather won’t like it. Part of being a dad, though, is that we have to do things that the kids don’t necessarily like because we’re their fathers. It doesn’t mean that you’re a bad father,” Ringo added. Paul shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “I mean it, mate. You’re not a bad father.” 

“I lied to her,” he said after a moment. “Earlier today. She saw your car pull up and she wanted to come with us, and I don’t want her here. I don’t trust him. I shouldn’t have told her that we were going shopping on the high street,” he muttered. “I should have just told her the truth.” 

“Well, why don’t we go shopping?” Ringo suggested. “You don’t want to visit John, do you?” 

“Not particularly,” Paul admitted. “So, you’re suggesting that we skive off and go to the high street and go shopping for Christmas pressies?” Ringo nodded. “Yeah, y’know, I’d be okay with that.” 

“Instead of seeing John?” 

Paul nodded. “I don’t see what good my seeing him will do,” he admitted. “I’d rather not derail his progress any further than it already has been,” he said. “I’d rather go check out the shops on the high street and see what pressies I can get for my babies.” 

“The office didn’t do your shopping for you?” 

Paul shook his head. “Only some of it,” he said. “I wanted to do Linda and Heather’s.” 

“You really love them, don’t you?” Ringo asked, and he started down the Priory’s steps. Paul followed. “I don’t think that I’ve ever seen you this serious about a relationship. You certainly didn’t stop the office from buying Jane’s gifts.” 

“Of course I love them,” he said, and he opened the passenger’s side door to the car. He slipped into it with ease. “I’m not just marrying Linda so that I can adopt Heather,” he told him. “She’s the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with. We’re growing our family together. They deserve more than gifts that the bloody office buys them.” He leaned back against the seat as Ringo pulled into traffic. “Jane probably deserved better, too,” he admitted. “I didn’t treat her as well as I could have. But, Linda and Heather, they’re brilliant,” he gushed. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so lucky.”

“How is Linda?” Ringo asked him. “Is everything going all right?” 

Paul nodded. “I reckon, yeah, y’know, she says that it is, so I have to trust her. She says that it’s okay for her to be feeling morning sickness, y’know? I guess that it means the baby’s doing okay in there. She’s knackered all the time, too, y’know.” He flexed his fingers. “But, if it means that things are okay with her and the baby, well, y’know, what can I do? I just have to deal with it.” 

Paul wasn’t used to expressing his feelings, and he certainly would have never done so so freely, but Linda’s patient insistence that it was okay to have feelings and that he was allowed to express them had had an affect on him. Maybe it was embarrassing -- he was rather mortified -- but he reckoned that it was okay to have feeling and express them as long as Linda was okay with it. He didn’t want to come off as less of a man. 

“When are you getting married?” Ringo asked him.

“We can get married whenever we want,” Paul told him. “We’ve past the waiting period. Soon, We’re to get married soon.” 

“Wouldn’t that make your problems with Heather a non-issue? If you married now?” 

“Now?” Paul echoed. “I can’t spring it on Linda like that. What if she’s not feeling up to it?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean today,” he said. “I just meant, sooner, rather than later. What’s wrong with doing it tomorrow?”

“I dunno, really, I never thought of it that way,” he admitted. “It would make her truly mine. It’d show them, and it’d make Heather happy. I want her to be happy. He tapped his fingers on the dashboard. “While we’re shopping, I’m going to buy Linda a ring.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Mummy?” Linda heard Heather’s voice, and she turned her head in her direction, glad that the nausea she’d been feeling the entire morning hadn’t worsened into her being physically ill. She was well versed in morning sickness, but she knew that Heather wasn’t. And that Heather would worry. “Mummy?” Heather repeated, and she gave her an expectant look. “Why is Thisbe sleeping?” 

“She’s probably tired,” Linda told her. She patted the spot on the settee beside her, pleased when Heather climbed up to join her. Thisbe was soundly asleep on the arm of the couch. “It’s her nap time.” 

“Because she’s a kitty?” Heather asked her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that she’s a kitty,” Heather said, as she snuggled close to her. “So she’s having a cat nap?” 

Linda ruffled her hair. “That’s very smart of you to think that way,” she told her. “Would you be interested in a nap as well?” 

Heather shook her head. “No,” she said. “Daddy promised that we’d go see Uncle Mike and Auntie Angela,” she reminded her. Linda would have had a hard time forgetting this, since Heather had been excitedly talking about it since the conversation that Paul had had with Mike when they were back on the farm. If Heather wasn’t talking about her birthday, or the upcoming Christmas holiday, she was talking about the fact that she and Paul were to marry, or her new cousin. When she wasn’t talking about that, Heather focused her attention on the little one that was inside of Linda. “Daddy said that her name is Brenna,” she continued. “It’s a girl!”

“You’re excited to meet her, aren’t you?” She asked her. It was sweet how excited Heather was. “I think that Daddy’s excited, too.” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh,” she said. “I wish that  _ our _ baby was coming,” she admitted. “Mummy? When will the baby come?” 

“Not until the summer, sweetie,” Linda told her. “We have to wait until they’re done growing.” 

Heather let out a sigh. “Summer is so far away,” she said. “It’s not even Christmas.” 

“I know,” she said. “I promise, sweetie, that it won’t seem so long. It’s going to fly by. It flew by when I was pregnant with you.” 

“When you were all alone?” 

She shook her head. “I wasn’t alone,” she said. “I had you, didn’t I?” She ran her hand through Heather’s hair. “Honestly, Heather, it wasn’t all that bad. I would have rather done it on my own than with someone who wasn’t ready to be your father.” 

Linda was just grateful that she had found someone who wanted to be Heather’s father, even though Mel was content to try to throw up road blocks to stop that. He had probably expected her to refuse to go along with the absolutely ludicrous provision that she be remarried before Paul be allowed the privilege of adopting Heather, but she loved Paul. He loved her, and they both loved their daughter. If it meant having to get married to the man that she loved due to Mel’s bullshit attempts at courting convention, well, there were worse issues to have. 

“But you don’t have to be alone anymore,” Heather pointed out. “You’ve got me. And Daddy. And the new baby.” 

“You’re right,” she said in agreement. “I have you, and I have Daddy, and we have the baby.” She pressed her hand to her abdomen. “I’m sorry that Daddy had to go out,” she continued. “Hopefully he’ll be back soon.” 

“I hope so, too,” Heather said. Her hand joined Linda’s. “Hi baby sibling,” she added, her tone rather gentle. “Are you getting bigger?” 

“Who are you asking?” Linda asked. “Me? Or the baby?” 

Heather squinted up at her. “The baby, duh. Why would  _ you _ get bigger?” 

“Well, of course, I’m going to get bigger,” she told her. “The baby’s inside of me, and I have to get bigger when it gets bigger.”

“Like Auntie Angela?” Heather asked her, as she pillowed her head against Linda’s side. “You have to get big and then the baby will come?” 

“Yeah, poppet, exactly like that,” she said. “What do you think about staying in? I know that I told you I’d take you and Martha to the park while your dad was gone, but I’m tired, honey.”

“Because of the baby?” 

Linda hesitated, and then nodded. She didn’t want Heather to think there was something wrong with her, or with the baby, but she was afraid if she did much more than get off the settee she would treat everyone in the near vicinity to a visual representation of what she’d had for breakfast. She doubted that that was how Paul wanted everyone to figure out that she was expecting his child. 

“Da told me that it was okay,” Heather said after a moment, her gaze meeting Linda’s. “That the baby was okay and that was why it was making you not feel well sometimes.”

“You and your dad talked about this?” Linda asked. She tried to hide her shock. “What brought that on?” 

“I didn’t like that the baby was being mean to you,” she said, and she shrugged. “Daddy said that it wasn’t being mean, it was just getting used to you.”

Heather kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t care if we go to the park, Mummy. I can stay here with you and the baby. It’s okay.” 

Linda felt guilty. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me the baby was making you feel weird?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you, Heather, you’re only five--”   
  


“I’m almost six,” she insisted. “My birthday’s coming up.” 

“I know,” she whispered. “You really don’t know what you want?” 

She shook her head. “I wanted a daddy,” Heather said. “I  _ have _ a daddy. The  _ best _ daddy.” 

Linda had to agree with Heather. “You do have the best daddy,” she told her. “He loves you so much.” 

“I know he does,” she said. Linda had never heard so much confidence coming from Heather, but she seemed secure in the the knowledge that Paul loved her. “I love him so much, too.” 

“But there has to be something that you want, honey,” she said, in an attempt to reason with her. “There’s nothing at all?” 

“Can I have a horse of my own?”

Linda breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, Heather, you can have a horse of your own. I will talk to your father about finding a good time to go out and get you one.” 

“Are you tired, Mummy?” 

“I’m nauseated,” she told her. “I really just want to lay on the couch and cuddle with you. Is that okay?” Heather nodded, but Linda’s guilt remained. “When Daddy comes home, he’ll take you to do something, okay?” 

“I want to be with you,” she whispered. “You and the baby.” 

“Daddy wants to spend time with you, too, you know,” Linda told her. She knew Paul adored Heather. “I want you to do something with him, okay?” 

“What will you do? When we’re gone?”

“I think that I might take a bath.” A bath did sound nice. Especially if Paul took Heather out. She could actually relax. “C’mon. Let’s nap together before Daddy gets home.” 

Heather wriggled closer. “Can I cuddle with you?” 

“Of course you can,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?” 

“I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “You won’t.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“Lin?” Paul called into the hallway, as he hung up his jacket. “Baby, I’m home.” 

“Da?” Heather said in response, and he followed the sound of her voice, successfully locating her and Linda in the front parlour. Linda appeared to be soundly asleep. Heather, however, was not. “Mummy’s sleeping,” she told him. “The baby’s made her tired.” 

“Has it?” Paul frowned. “Poor Mummy.” He grinned at Heather. “Have ye been keeping her company?” 

Heather nodded. “Yes, I wanted to make sure that she and the baby were okay. Mummy asked me to nap with her.” 

There was enough space on the settee for him to join them, and he sat down beside his sleeping fiancee, tugging a blanket down off the back of the settee to tuck over her. Heather was quick to scramble onto his lap. He gave her a kiss hello. 

“Want to see what I bought Mummy?” He asked her. She nodded eagerly. 

“Is it a Christmas pressie?” She asked him. He shook his head. “What is it? Mum’s birthday was ages ago.” 

Paul opened the jewellery box. “I’ve bought her a wedding band,” he told her. “I was thinking that, if it was okay with Mum, we’d nip down to the Registry tomorrow before we visit the baby?”

“That’s fine, honey,” Linda murmured. “I’d like that.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Heather was eying the ring in awe. “It’s so pretty, Da.”

“Well, your mum’s one of the prettiest girls I know,” he told her. He redirected his attention to Linda. “I reckon that you might like Heather and me to go out on a little adventure?” 

“That would be nice,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I want to join you, but I just don’t feel up to it.” 

“You don’t have to apologise,” he told her. “You’re growing our baby. That’s bloody hard work, if you ask me, and you’re willing to do it to give me a second.” Heather was Paul’s first, after all. She’d always be his first. “So I’m more than willing to spend some quality time with our Heather.” 

Much to his surprise, said child wrapped her arms around him. “You called me our Heather,” she explained. “I love being our Heather.” 

“Well, y’know, that’s what you are to me,” he said. “To us, to me and to mum.” 

“And to the baby?” Heather asked him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, to the baby, too. You’re their big sister. It’s a big job, y’know.” 

“I know.” 

“Heather’s very good at her job,” Linda told him. “You don’t have to worry about her.” 

“I know,” Paul said. “I’m very proud of you, Heather.” 

“I am, too,” Linda said. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t go to the park…”

“It’s okay, Mummy,” she chirped. “I didn’t want you to get sick.” 

“Sick?” Paul questioned. “What’s she talking about?” 

“It’s just my morning sickness,” Linda told him. “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t want to get sick while we were in mixed company. You should go out with Heather. Spend time with her.”    
  
“What are you going to do while we’re gone?” 

“I think I’m going to soak in the bath,” she said. “Maybe you can join me later?” 

“Only if you feel up to it,” he told her. “I don’t want you to be feeling sick, y’know.” 

Paul had to admit that he missed making love to Linda, but she had been feeling so miserable it hadn’t seemed worth it to him to suggest they have an attempt. What good would that have done if it had aggravated her morning sickness? He’d have felt like an awful partner. 

“Or, y’know, we could just enjoy a bath together,” he realised. “That’d be nice. I could give you a massage when we were done.” 

“That sounds lovely,” she said. “You really would?” 

“I’d do anything to help you feel better,” he said. “We’ll bring you back some soup, okay?”

Linda nodded. “I’d like that,” she said. “You’re so good to me.” 

He leaned down so that he could kiss her. “I love you, y’know.” He settled his hand on her tummy. “I love you, too.” He then returned his attention to Heather. “Ye know I love you, right?”

She nodded. “I love you, and Mummy, and the baby, so much.” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, I know ye do,” he told her. “So does your mum, and the baby.” 

Heather giggled. “The baby is so silly,” she said. “How does it know?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “I reckon the little sprog can hear us, y’know?” 

“I used to talk to you all the time while I was pregnant, Hettie,” Linda supplied. Heather beamed. “I think you recognized my voice.” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Given that George and John’s dentist gave them LSD, I’m not entirely sure that you should use them as any sort of example,” she said. “God, Paul. I don’t blame you for being scared of the dentist. You don’t have to pretend to be a hero for me.” 
> 
> Linda felt that many of Paul’s problems stemmed from him avoiding the dentist like a passion, but she felt both hypocritical pointing that out, and she really couldn’t blame him for wanting to avoid the dentist. Either Dr. Fitzpatrick’s bedside manner was entirely lacking, or Paul was misinterpreting lectures as personal hatred. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to tell him that he couldn’t be scared of the dentist. 
> 
> “Did you explain to Dr. Fitzpatrick why you hadn’t been to the dentist in a decade?” 

Paul settled back against the settee, and he ran his fingers through Heather’s hair. He still couldn’t believe he was a father. Heather was his girl, no matter what anyone felt, or no matter what anyone said, and he could hardly wait for it to be official. 

“What do you think, Momma?” Paul asked Linda, and he reached his free hand out to stroke her side. “You feel up to a trip to the registry tomorrow?” 

“You want to get married?” She asked him. “I thought you wanted to wait?”

“I know that I’ve said that,” he said, his tone earnest. “But that was before. I’ve changed my mind. I’d just as soon have you be Mrs. McCartney tomorrow than after the holidays,” he told her. “As we’re past the waiting period--”

“I’d like that,” she said, and she leaned over to kiss him on the lips. “I love you.” 

“Yeah?” 

She nodded. “Yeah. I really do love you.” She kissed him again. “Of course I’ll marry you tomorrow. I’d marry you tonight if the registry was still open.” She paused. “Is it? Do you know?” 

“I don’t think that it is,” he told her. “You’re really that keen on marrying me?” 

Linda nodded. He watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know that I don’t need the legalities of marriage to be happy with you,” she said. “I’m just happy that we’re in love. That you want to be Heather’s dad, and that you’re happy about the baby we’re having together. That being said...I want this. I want you. I want you and Heather to be legally related. I know that she does, too.” 

“I do, Mummy,” Heather said. “I want Daddy to be my daddy.”

“He’s going to be,” Linda told her. “Tomorrow. Won’t that be wonderful?” 

Heather nodded. “The best.” She craned her head to look up at him. “We should go out and get Mummy flowers,” she told him. “Don’t people have flowers when they get married?” 

“I reckon that we can get your mum flowers,” he said. “Are you ready to head out?” Heather nodded. “You ought to go to the toilet, first, and put on a warmer jumper. I’ll wait here for you.” 

“You’ll sit here with Mummy while I get ready?” Heather asked him, her hand going to her mouth for a moment. “You promise?” 

“Course I’ll stay with Mummy,” he said. “You okay, duck? Is your mouth bothering you?” 

Heather’s eyes went wide. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ll go change my jumper.” 

“Heather--”

“I said that I’m fine.” She scrambled off his lap. “It’s nothing!”

Paul had half a mind to chase after her, but he didn’t want to accidentally cause her to get more upset. It was better to let her go. Heather was quite sensitive. 

“D’you know what that’s about?” Paul asked Linda, his tone hesitant. 

Linda nodded. “Her tooth is loose,” she said. “I think that she’s self-conscious of it.” 

“Why would she be self-conscious of it? It’s only a wobbly tooth. I thought that was normal for kids her age,” he said, shifting his weight so he could press his palm down on Linda’s abdomen. “It just means that she’s growing up, that’s all.”

“There was a dentist who did examinations at Dalton,” she said after a moment. “I was going to keep her home from school the day that they did them, but they made the dentist come back for the children who had been absent. They humiliated her, Paul. The dentist told her that she needed to be seen for a proper appointment and I had to come into the school to tell them that we couldn’t afford it. Somehow all of the kids in her grade found out and they kept teasing her about how she was too poor to be at Dalton if she couldn’t afford the dentist. It’s not like they weren’t wrong. We were too poor for her to be at Dalton.” She worried her lower lip, the sadness evident in her eyes. “The dentist told me that she needed to be seen when she started getting wobbly teeth. I told her when that happened that we would go to my dad’s dentist…I would have come up with something.” 

“You haven’t the need to worry about the money, Lin,” he said. “She’s a kid. She’ll be my kid soon enough. The NHS will see her for free.” He lit up a cigarette. “Or she can go to my dentist,” he offered. Paul hadn’t been to the dentist in awhile, but Ringo had informed him that the dentist had wondered out loud if his bandmate had ever bothered to return from the wilds of India. He supposed he’d ring him up, for Heather’s sake. “The money’s not the problem. Not anymore.” 

“What’s the difference between the NHS and your dentist?” 

“Well, I can’t exactly go down to the NHS dentist, can I? Can you imagine? They’d be mobbed by those obnoxious fans, trying to get a glimpse of a Beatle.” He rolled his eyes. “I go to a private dentist. Brian said that it was important to set ourselves up with a private physician and a dentist, so I had Dr. Asher ring up some of his colleagues and book us in. Not that I’m going to go now,” he said. 

“Why aren’t you?” 

“I told Jane that I wouldn’t associate with the same social circles as her family,” he said, his tone breezy. “She’s cheesed off enough that Peter still works for Apple...I’d hate to risk her ire if I went to the dentist.” 

“I don’t think that Jane told you you couldn’t go see the dentist, Paul,” Linda said. “I understand that she’s angry with you, but I think that you’re expanding the definition of a social circle so you can put off your examination.” 

Paul shrugged. “I said I’d go, didn’t I? That I don’t want to set a bad example for Hettie?” 

“Only under duress,” she chided, her tone playful. “I don’t understand why you don’t like it. I always went when I could afford it.” 

“My mum used to be the one to get us to go to the dentist,” he told her. He took a puff of his cigarette. “She died, I stopped going. There was no one to make us. What was my dad going to do? To suggest that we go would have been hypocritical. He worked all time, anyways. Mum was gone and they’d done away with the sweets ration, so, y’know, I ate my feelings. No one told me not to. No one made me go to the dentist. When Brian became our manager, he was horrified. He thought that we were kidding when we told him we didn’t have a regular dentist or a regular doctor. So I fobbed it off for a bit, y’know. Why’d it matter? I moved to London and he said that it would be foolish to keep going home to see my dentist there, so I had to cop to him what I’d done.” 

He stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and lit up another. There was a slight ache that had developed on the side of his mouth where he’d had a rather large cavity fixed, and he was determined to ignore it. He wasn’t going to ruin Heather’s time out with him by admitting that he was in some sort of pain. 

“I came back to the Ashers and told them that I felt Brian was ridiculous,” he said. “They told me that they had a private dentist that they all went to see, Dr. Fitzpatrick, and that they were certain that he’d gladly take the four of us on as patients. I didn’t want to go. What did it matter what state my teeth were in?” 

“Of course it matters,” Linda told him. “Don’t you think that I would have gone to the dentist sooner if I could afford it?” 

“Every time I go to the dentist it’s a horrid experience,” he said, taking care to keep his voice down. “I like Dr. Fitzpatrick, y’know, we get on well enough, but he’s always got some bloody complaint about how my teeth are. He had the nerve to tell me that I needed to keep an eye on one of me fillings,” he told her. “He wanted me to come back after I’d gone to India to have a second glance at it. I didn’t bother. He’s the one who insisted I needed them in the first place.” 

“Paul!” 

“What? It’s fine, I told you.” 

“You didn’t follow up on the dentist?” Linda asked him, in a hushed tone. “What if that had fallen out?” 

“I’ll buck up and move on with it,” he said. “It’s what I always do. Dr. Fitzpatrick had a conniption when he saw what me tooth looked like in the Paperback Writer promotional,” he added, and he rolled his eyes. “He told me that I needed to get a proper replacement done in, and that I ought to have done it after the accident.” 

“He’s not wrong,” Linda told him. “Why didn’t you?” 

“I was scared,” he said, his tone soft. “I’m terrified of the dentist, y’know, I don’t want Heather to know though. She’s been through so much.” 

Linda shifted so that she was straddling him. “You don’t have to pretend, honey. I think that it would be okay if Heather knew you were frightened but were still willing to go.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She kissed him on the lips. “I’m sure. When you get home tonight, I think that I feel up to rewarding you.” 

Paul’s eyes lit up. “Rewarding me? What did you have in mind, eh?” 

She smirked. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.” 

“I love you, Momma,” he whispered. “I love you.” 

He slid his hands up the sides of her blouse, and cupped her breasts for a moment, until he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the steps. Heather had clearly finished getting herself dressed. He didn’t want to appear inattentive.

“Hi, duckie,” he said, and he offered her an easy grin. “What a pretty outfit you’ve got on.” 

“Thank you, Daddy.” 

“Have you picked it out special?” He reached out and stroked her hair. “I can’t wait to go out with ye.” 

Heather nodded. “What were you talking about?” 

“I was just telling Mummy how much I love her.” 

“You weren’t talking about that,” she whispered. “I heard you. You want to hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Paul asked her. 

“You noticed my wobbly tooth!” She exclaimed. “I don’t want to go to the dentist. I won’t go.”

“We were talking about the dentist, Hettie,” Linda interjected. “Daddy’s got a nice dentist that he wants you to go see.” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t want to go.” 

“Heather!”

Paul scrubbed his hand across his face, and he beckoned her towards him. “Come ead, darling,” he said. “I just want to get a look at your tooth.”

She shook her head. “No.” 

“No?” Paul asked her. “Not even if I show you what the dentist did to mine?” 

Heather eyed him warily. “What did the dentist do to you? Did he hurt you? Is he mean?” 

He patted his knee, pleased when she climbed up on the couch and resumed her position. “No, duck, he didn’t hurt me,” he said. “I was in a motorbike accident a couple of years ago,” he said, and he rubbed at his cheek for a moment before he took her hands in his. “You remember me telling you about that, right?” 

Heather nodded. “You said that it was dangerous and that you hadn’t been paying attention, and that’s why you have that scar that your moustache is covering.” She pushed his moustache aside, and he felt her run her fingers along the scar. “Did you get hurt?” 

“Not very,” he assured her. “Just some cuts and bruises, except that I destroyed my front tooth. The dentist had to replace it with an imitation one.” 

“Which tooth?” 

He pointed to the tooth that Dr. Fitzpatrick had replaced for him. “This one here, duck.” 

“I can’t tell the difference.” 

“That’s because he did it so that you couldn’t tell the difference,” he told her. “It’s quite brilliant, really. I’m not a dentist, y’know, so I can’t tell you how he did it, but he did.” 

Heather let out a sigh. “I have a wobbly tooth,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to show you because I don’t want to have to go to Grandpa’s dentist back in New York. I like it here.” 

“You don’t have to go back to New York,” he told her. “Mum and I, we rang up my dentist, and he’s agreed to see all of us. It’s important for Mummy to go because of the baby, and I would feel rather guilty if I didn’t join you.” He kissed her forehead. “Can I see, though, duck? I haven’t seen anyone’s wobbly teeth since my brother had them.” 

She gave him a bashful look. “Can’t you just rip it out?” 

He shrugged. “I dunno, duck, I’ve got to look at it first. See how wobbly it is.” 

“Okay,” she said, and she pulled down her lower lip, allowing him a good look at the tooth. “Can you see it?” 

“Yeah, I can see it,” he said, and he reached out to give it a gentle wiggle. The tooth appeared to be loose, but not loose enough for him to pull out. He didn’t want to hurt her. “I don’t think it’s ready yet. D’you mind if I show your mum?” 

“Yeah, you can show her,” she whispered. “I don’t care.” 

Linda shifted on the settee so that she was closer to them, and he grinned at her. “Look at our little girl, Momma. She’s getting so big, isn’t she?” 

“The tooth fairy is going to pay her a visit soon,” Linda said in agreement. “What a lucky girl we’ve got.” 

“I’m not in trouble?” Heather asked, once he’d relinquished his hold on her. “For having a wobbly tooth and costing you money?” 

“Oh,” Linda said. “No, Hettie, sweetie, you’re not going to get in trouble,” she said. “Daddy and I don’t care about the money, not anymore. We don’t have to worry about it. Even if we were still having to worry about money, it would be okay. You’re more important.”

“Will you still take me out?” That question was directed at him.

“Of course I will, duck. I want to take you with me. We’re going to get flowers for tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek. “Mummy, are you and the baby going to be okay?”

Heather crawled onto Linda’s lap and he watched her hug her tightly. 

“We’re going to be just fine,” Linda told her. “I promise.” 

“Okay.” 

“Go on,” Paul encouraged her. “Get your coat, and your hat and your mittens.” 

“You have to wear a coat too,” she told him. 

“I will,” he promised. “I just want to give Mum a kiss goodbye.” He leaned over and gave Linda a kiss. “We won’t be gone very long, I promise.” 

“You don’t have to hurry home,” Linda said. “Have fun with Heather. Okay?”

“I always have fun with Heather,” he said. He patted her abdomen. “Tell me how you felt when I get back, yeah? I want an update on the sprog.” 

“You always get one,” she promised, her lips turning up in a grin. “I love you, Papa.” 

“I love you, too.” He kissed her on the lips, and he took the jacket that Heather had produced for him. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Mummy?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I don’t want to go to the dentist,” Heather told him, for what Paul felt was roughly the millionth time, and he glanced down at her. They had almost made it to the florist’s shop, which had the unfortunate location of being directly across the street from Paul’s own dentist. Not that Paul was planning on making a visit anytime soon. “Dad!” 

“Why don’t you want to go to the dentist?” He asked her. “Do you want to tell me what happened? When the dentist came to your school?” 

She shook her head. “Mummy already told you,” she whispered. “I didn’t want you to know at all.” 

“Why didn’t you want me to know?” 

Heather shrugged. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t want you to laugh at me, too.” 

“Have I ever laughed at you?”

She shook her head. “Everyone at school did,” she said after a moment. “Even though my teacher said that it wasn’t my fault. The dentist was mean to me, and he yelled at Mummy when she said that we didn’t have enough money for us to go. He said that that was why he had to spend so much time on me compared to the others.” 

“Those kids were wankers,” Paul said, his tone flat. He lit up a cigarette. “Don’t tell Mummy I said that.” Paul had never been so angry at a group of children, and he wasn’t sure that he liked the feeling. More importantly, was the fact that the dentist, who being a dentist was supposedly an adult, had made Heather feel like she was to blame to for what, exactly? Her father abandoning her and her mother doing the best that she could with what she had? Heather was five. “So was that dentist. You don’t act that way, Het. It’s not on.” 

Paul sighed. “You see that building there?” He pointed at the dreaded dental surgery, which was in a perfectly lovely building that didn’t deserve his vitriol. “Heather? Do you see it?” 

Heather followed his gaze. “Uh huh, I see it, Daddy. What are we looking at?” 

“That building is where my dentist works,” he said. “I promise you that what happened at Dalton won’t be happening there. I’ll ring him up and tell him that you don’t want the office open while we’re going.” 

She shook her head. “You don’t have to,” she said. “I can be brave.” 

“I don’t mind, Heather, honest,” he said. “It’s what I normally do, anyways.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, you know, I don’t really want me trips to the dentist office to turn into giant autograph sessions,” he said. He squeezed her hand with the hand that he wasn’t holding his cigarette with. “I reckon Dr. Fitzpatrick doesn’t enjoy that either. It’s bad enough that sometimes his assistants get Beatle fever when I grace them with my presence,” he said. “I guess they find me charming or something? I don’t get it, y’know.” 

Heather giggled. “Would you come with me?” 

“To your dentist appointment?” Paul asked. She nodded. “Eh, sure, duck. Of course I will. That’d make Dr. Fitzpatrick happy, I reckon. Uncle Ringo told me that he asked him how I was doing the other day, when he got his teeth worked on.” 

“The dentist at Dalton made me see him alone,” she reported. “I wanted Mummy to be there and no one would call her. He really hurt me, Daddy. It was scary.” 

Paul drew in a deep breath, and then another. “I promise, Mummy and I will be there with you when you go to the dentist,” he said. “Dr. Fitzpatrick, he won’t care, honest.” 

“It makes me a baby,” she whispered. “You and Mum said I’m getting big!”

“Nah, duck, it doesn’t make you a baby,” he told her in what he hoped was an assuring tone. “You wanted Mummy there, and it makes me angry that they discounted your feelings like that. As their patient, they should have defaulted...I mean listened to you. I don’t like to go to the dentist alone either,” he said. “Dr. Fitzpatrick lets me have someone in the room there with me, and I’m much bigger than you.” 

“He does?” 

Paul nodded. “Brian used to have to sit in my appointments with me because I wouldn’t go otherwise,” he admitted. “Sometimes I would go to the dentist with me girlfriend at the time, Jane, and he’d alternate between us. He’d been Jane’s dentist since she was about your age.”

“They yelled at Mummy,” Heather said. “She cried. I don’t know what they meant but she took me home and she was crying. Will Dr. Fitzpatrick make her cry?” 

“No, he won’t,” he told her. “He’s not like that. I’m sorry that they were cruel to you, and to Mummy. That’s not on. It makes me angry that they were.” He knelt down so that he and Heather were eye to eye. “I promise, the dentist will be fine.” 

“Okay,” she whispered. “Will you carry me?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Course I will.” He scooped her into his arms, pleased when he was rewarded with a kiss. “London’s beautiful, isn’t it? All decked out for Christmas?” 

“I like the lights,” Heather told him. “I love you, Da. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” 

He brushed his lips to her cheek. “I can’t wait either,” he said. “It’s brilliant, y’know? I get to be your dad officially, and marry your mummy. I can’t wait to marry your mummy.”

“Mummy loves you so much,” she informed him. “Me too.” 

“We’re going to pick out some flowers for you and your mum, okay? Some for us to have in the house and some for tomorrow?” 

Heather nodded. “Mummy likes daisies,” she told him. “Can we get her those?” 

“Of course we can get Mummy daisies,” he said. “We ought to get her a couple dozen, maybe?” 

Heather beamed. “So many flowers for Mummy.” 

He opened the door to the florist, and waved a hello to the shopkeeper. Heather remained secure in his arms. He didn’t mind. 

His eyes scanned the store to make sure there weren’t any hordes of teenaged girls, ready to strike, and he spotted someone far worse: there was Dr. Fitzpatrick himself, looking at the bouquets of flowers. Paul scowled. His jaw throbbed. He lit up another smoke, and drew in a deep breath. 

“Look,” he said, and he kept his voice low. “Do you want to say hullo to my dentist? He’s that fellow right there.” 

Heather’s eyes widened. “He’s a  _ dentist _ , Da. You’re not meant to talk to them!”

“No, duck, I promise, it’s okay,” he said. “I reckon he’s entitled to be normal. We don’t want to be impolite.” 

“Well...all right.” Heather agreed, though she tightened her arms around his neck. “We can.” 

Paul crossed the room to where the dentist stood, and he tapped him on the shoulder. “Hullo, Dr. Fitzpatrick. I’ve made it back from India.” 

“Paul?” The dentist asked. He adjusted his glasses. “Surely you haven’t been in India all this time.” 

“No, I haven’t been,” he admitted. “I’ve been back since late March.” 

“Do you want to go up and have a looksee?” 

Paul shook his head. He wasn’t going to the dentist. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ve sorted it. I can’t go right now, anyways, I’ve got Heather.” 

“Right,” he said. “Your daughter that you spoke about on the phone. Your parents speak quite highly of you, young lady.” 

“They love me,” he heard Heather whisper. 

“What dentist did you go to?” Dr. Fitzpatrick asked him. “To get your tooth looked at.” 

“Oh, you know,” Paul said, his tone vague. “A bloke when I was in New York.”

“You didn’t go to the dentist while you were in New York with us,” Heather protested. “I heard you tell Mummy that you hadn’t been to the dentist since January.” 

“Heather, it doesn’t matter,” Paul said, rather hastily. “I don’t need the filling looked at. It’s fine. Dr. Fitzpatrick is at the florist. He’s not a dentist when he’s shopping for flowers.” 

“But your mouth hurts,” she said in a whisper. “You keep rubbing the side of your face when you think no one’s paying attention.” 

“Why don’t I just have a look?” Dr. Fitzpatrick offered. Paul scowled. “I’ll do it here, Paul. If it can wait until your appointment I’ll let you know.” 

Paul sighed. “Well. All right. I’ve got to put you down now, Het. Just until the doctor gets his looksee over with.” 

Once on the ground, Heather sized up the dentist. She held Paul’s hand firmly in hers. “You won’t hurt him, will you? He wasn’t trying to be bad. He’s just scared.” 

“I know,” Dr. Fitzpatrick told her. Paul felt his face flush. This was mortifying. “You’re Heather, right?” 

She nodded. “Uh huh.” 

“I don’t intend to hurt your dad,” he said. “Sometimes dental procedures are uncomfortable, especially when you need more than just a simple cleaning.” 

“But, he’s scared,” Heather said, her tone insistent. “And you know. When the dentist came to my school and they found out I was scared they yelled at me. It hurt so bad.”

“It’s the tooth you told me that needed to get fixed,” Paul said after a moment. “It’s fine. I’ll go tonight to have you look at it in the office, if you want me to. 

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he said. “I said that I’d go.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“What are the two of you doing back so early?” Linda asked Paul, who had arrived home, Heather in tow, much earlier than she’d expected. “Did something happen?”

“My bloody tooth,” he told her. “I ran into the dentist when I was with Heather, and now I have to go to a bleeding emergency dental appointment. I don’t want to go without you.”

“Well, of course, we’ll go with you,” she assured him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain?” 

Heather had gone upstairs in search of the cats, which left the two of them alone in the kitchen. 

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing,” he said after a moment. “I wanted it to go away. I don’t want to have to go in there.”

“Paul,” she whispered, and she reached out to pull him into a hug. “It’s okay that you’re scared.” 

“I’m meant to take these pills before I go,” he told her. “But, if I do, I can’t drive home. They mess with me head.” 

“What’s the big deal?” She asked. “I’ll drive us home. I don’t mind.” 

“Doesn’t taking ‘em make me less of a man?” Paul asked her. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t want you to think that I’m incapable.” 

“You  _ are _ capable,” she assured him. “So what if you have to take a benzo before the dentist? Honestly, Paul, I can’t exactly blame you. It sounds like going to the dentist is traumatic for you.”

“I didn’t even get you your soup,” he mumbled. “Heather didn’t even want to go out for sweets together.” 

“I don’t care about the soup,” she said. “We can get some on our way home from the dentist. I’ll make you and Hettie grilled cheese, too, if you feel up to it.” She sighed. “As for Heather, she’s obviously worried. Wasn’t that evident by the fact that she bolted up the stairs without even a glance my way?” 

“You think she’s worried about me?” 

“Of course she is,” Linda said. “You’re her dad. You’re in pain.” 

“We should go after her,” he said. “I don’t care that she’s worried about me, y’know, but I want her to know that she’s okay. That I’m going to be okay. Even if that might not be true.” 

“Paul,” she said. “You’re going to be fine. Isn’t it better to take care of these problems now rather than letting them linger? Especially with your family history.”

“I’m going to go,” he told her. “I just don’t want to.”

“I know that you don’t,” she said. “It’s going to be okay. Why don’t you go take your pills, and--”

“I can’t take them,” he interjected. 

“Do you not have any left?” Linda asked him. “I’m sure that we could find a chemist that would give you some.”

“No,” he said. “I’ve still got them. I just don’t want to take them. I can’t.” 

“Why  _ can’t _ you?” 

Paul shook his head. “You and Heather will think I’m a pansy.”

“No,” she corrected “We weren’t. You aren’t.”

“Are ye sure?” 

She nodded. “Of course, I’m sure,” she said. “Come on. Come upstairs with me. We’ll talk to Heather about what’s happening, and you can tell her about the pills. Or, I can. I don’t think that she’s going to care, honey. She’s worried about you.” 

“She shouldn’t be worried about me.” 

“Well, she is,” Linda said. “That’s not a bad thing. It just means that Heather cares about you. That she loves you, and she wants you to be okay.”

“You really don’t think it will make her stop wanting me to be her dad?” 

“She’s not going to stop wanting you to be her dad because you have anxiety based around the dentist,” she told him. “It’s perfectly normal to need these pills, Paul. I don’t know why you wouldn’t think that?” 

“None of me mates have them--”

“Given that George and John’s dentist gave them LSD, I’m not entirely sure that you should use them as any sort of example,” she said. “God, Paul. I don’t blame you for being scared of the dentist. You don’t have to pretend to be a hero for me.” 

Linda felt that many of Paul’s problems stemmed from him avoiding the dentist like a passion, but she felt both hypocritical pointing that out, and she really couldn’t blame him for wanting to avoid the dentist. Either Dr. Fitzpatrick’s bedside manner was entirely lacking, or Paul was misinterpreting lectures as personal hatred. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to tell him that he couldn’t be scared of the dentist. 

“Did you explain to Dr. Fitzpatrick why you hadn’t been to the dentist in a decade?” 

“It wasn’t a decade! It was only eight years!” Paul swiped the back of his hand across his face. “What would I have told him? That I couldn’t bring myself to schedule dental cleanings because I missed my mum?” 

“You could have told him that when your mother died your father dropped the ball on your dental cleanings,” she pointed out. “Rather than appearing like you didn’t care about the state of your teeth.” 

“Oh,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think about that.” 

“I know,” she said, and she squeezed him tightly. “Honey, I know.” She kissed him on the lips. “Let’s go upstairs and check on Hettie, okay?” 

Paul nodded. “I want to make sure she’s okay,” he said. “I reckon I might’ve scared her.” 

“We’ll talk to her,” she said. “Come on. It’s going to be okay.” She ran her hand over her abdomen. “If you behave at the dentist, you’ll get a reward tonight, once Heather’s in bed.” 

“I can’t wait for our bath,” he told her. “We can stay in as long as ye like.”

“That’s not all that I have in mind for us,” she said. “We’re home now, Heather’s going to be in her own room, my morning sickness has mostly died down…” She licked her lips. “I just think that you need a reward for going to the dentist, that’s all.” 

Paul’s eyes lit up. “D’you really feel up to it?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I feel fine.” 

Heather was on the floor of her room, patting Thisbe, and Linda knocked on the door. It was ajar, but she respected that Heather could want some privacy. She didn’t want to alarm her. 

“Do you mind if we come in?” Linda asked her, once she’d pulled her attention from the cat to look up at them. “Daddy and I, we want to talk to you.” 

Heather nodded. “Is Daddy okay?” 

Linda glanced at Paul, and took pity on him. “Daddy has a hard time going to the dentist,” she said. “He didn’t want to worry us, so he didn’t want us to know that his tooth was hurting him.” 

“He told the dentist that he’d gone to see one in New York,” she told her. 

“That’s because he’s nervous, honey,” she said. She entered the room, and sat down on the edge of Heather’s bed. Paul sat down beside her. He held her hand tightly. “Sometimes, when we’re nervous, we say things that aren’t necessarily true to try to get out of doing the thing that we don’t want to do.” She pressed a kiss to Paul’s cheek. 

“It’s okay to be scared, Da,” Heather said. She abandoned Thisbe to sidle up beside him. “I’m scared of loads of things.” 

“So am I,” Linda said. “It’s really okay.” 

“Even though I have to take those stupid pills?” Paul asked. 

“No one thinks any less of you,” she assured him. “It’s okay.” 

“What pills?” Heather asked. “Can I see them? Can I sit on your lap? Mummy, how’s the baby?” 

“I’ll show them to you,” Paul told her, and Linda watched him settle Heather on his lap. “Yeah, Mummy, how’s the baby?” 

Linda smiled fondly at them. “The baby’s fine,” she said. “I feel okay.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But why does it matter to people that I’m adopted?” She asked him. “Why do they even care? I thought being adopted meant that I was yours.”
> 
> “It does,” he assured her. “You are mine. I promise.” He smoothed out her hair with the palm of his hand. “And, y’know, you are brave.” 
> 
> She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Tigers are brave. Not me.” 

“Can I say hullo?” Paul asked her, his tone downright bashful. Heather had slid off her bed, and was corralling the four cats. Linda smiled at the sight of their daughter trying to scoop them up into her arms. “To the baby? Lin?” 

“Yeah, honey, of course you can say hi to the baby,” she said, and she lifted the hem of her jumper to reveal her abdomen. Of course, there was no visible sign of the life that was contained within, but she noticed that his eyes lit up all the same. “Come here,” she said. She reached for his hand, and pressed them both down above her navel. “Daddy’s here.” 

“Hullo, darling,” Paul whispered, his voice husky. “I’m sorry that I’m having a bad day. I promised your mum that we’d have a good time when we were in London, and I’ve gone off and ruined it because of my  _ stupid _ tooth.” 

Linda sighed. “Paul, I don’t care that you broke your filling,” she said. “Well, I mean, I obviously care, because you’re in pain, but I’m not angry with you.” 

“Heather might be,” he said. “I ruined our time out.”

“Paul--”

At the mention of her name, Heather crossed the room to them, Mary and Joseph tucked in her arms. “I’m not mad at you,” she told him. “We got Mummy her flowers. You don’t feel well, so we came home.” She shrugged. “Do you want to play with the kitties?” 

“You don’t care that we didn’t go to get ice cream?” 

She shook her head, and Linda watched as she settled Mary and Joseph on Paul’s lap. “There you go, kitties,” she said. “Daddy loves you just like I do. I want to play tigers, Da!” 

“I can--can we cuddle, instead?” Paul requested. “My mouth hurts, darling. I can’t play right now.” 

“Can I put on my tiger costume?” Heather asked. 

“Yeah, if you want to,” he said. Linda watched as Heather skipped over to where she stored the costume, and she watched her begin to put it on. Paul spoke, and he diverted her attention“Lin, do you think you could get me something to take?” 

“Of course,” she said. “When is the dentist appointment, anyways?” 

Paul gave her a blank stare. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, did the dentist give you a time?” Linda tried not to audibly sigh. “How about this? I’ll give you some paracetamol, and you and Hettie can cuddle with the kittens while I go downstairs and try to figure out what time you’re supposed to be at Dr. Fitzpatrick’s?”

“Will you come up and join us?” Paul asked her, and he shot her a hazy grin. “I mean, y’know, after you give the good doctor a ring.” 

Linda smiled fondly at him. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “Yeah, I will. Are you sure there’s enough room for me?” 

Heather had joined Paul on the bed, having corralled Thisbe and Jesus, and Martha had joined them as well. The sheepdog’s weight was pressed against Paul. It was clear to Linda that Martha knew her master was upset. 

Linda headed into their room to get the requested medication. She headed over to the set of drawers, where there was a bottle of paracetamol, and she took out two of the tablets for Paul. She placed them in his hand, along with a glass of water that had been on her nightstand. 

“Take these,” she told him. “You’ll feel better, I promise.” 

“Thank you, luv.” 

“What about me, Mum?” Heather asked. “Do I need a tablet like Da?” 

“I don’t think tigers take paracetamol,” Linda told her, a smile playing at her lips. “Aren’t you a tiger?” 

Heather nodded. “I’m a big brave tiger. Why don’t they take it? What if the tigers get headaches? Or one of their big tiger teeth gets a boo boo? Like Daddy’s?” 

“That’s a good question,” she said. “I don’t actually know the answer.” She leaned over to kiss Heather on the cheek. “Will you keep an eye on your daddy while I go ring the dentist?” 

“Uh huh,” Heather said. “I’ll keep Daddy company. I’m a big brave tiger, I’m not scared.”

Paul grasped her wrist. “I’m not a big brave tiger,” he told her. “Will you hurry back?” 

“I’m not  _ really _ a tiger, Daddy,” Heather told him. “You don’t have to be scared of me.” 

“It’s not you that I’m scared of,” Linda heard him whisper to her. “Don’t worry, though, you’re quite fearsome.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“What? Fearsome? It means that you’re meant to be a tiger, right?” Linda watched Heather nod. “Well, tigers are fearsome. They’re awe-inspiring. Just like you. You’ll come back, right, Lin?” Linda could see the desperation in Paul’s eyes.

“Yes,” she told him. “Of course I’m going to come back. Why don’t you get some rest?” 

“I can’t,” he said. “I’ve got the dentist.” 

Linda sighed. “Paul,” she said. “It’s barely 3 in the afternoon. Why would you think that you had the dentist right this second? If it had  _ really _ been an emergency, he would have dragged you there by the ear and you would have called me from his office.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll just go up to your office and call Dr. Fitzpatrick, and then I’ll come up and join the two of you.” She leaned over to give them each another kiss. “Heather?” 

“Yes, Mummy?” 

“Was Dr. Fitzpatrick nice to you?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, he told me that he knew that Daddy was scared, and that he wasn’t going to be mean to him. That sometimes dental procedures hurt even though he doesn’t mean for them to. He knew I was Daddy’s daughter! What’s a procedure?” 

“That’s just a big word for when you fix someone’s teeth,” Linda said. “I’m sure the dentist will explain to us what he’s doing to make Daddy’s teeth feel better.” 

Heather nodded. “He’s got a big boo boo,” she said, her tone sage. “He said it hurt too much to play tigers with me.” 

“I know,” she said. “Dr. Fitzpatrick will sort Daddy out. Don’t worry.” 

“Hey, duck,” Paul whispered. “You want to show me your tiger teeth?” 

With Heather occupying Paul, Linda took the opportunity to slip out of the room. She was sure that Heather would take her temporarily role as Paul’s minder seriously. She was equally sure that Paul would simply stay away due to his lack of desire to be in the vicinity of her talking to the dentist. 

Paul’s office was on the top floor of the house, and she headed upstairs to make the phone call. She sat down at his desk, and smiled at the framed photos that littered it. In addition to the photos she’d sent him of Heather in front of his picture, there were photos of the two of them, and of her and Heather, and him and Heather, as well as photographs of Heather with their various pets. She smiled at the sight of them. 

She sat at the desk and lit up a cigarette, while she picked up the phone and dialed the number for the dentist. She wasn’t scared of dentists, unlike Paul and Heather, but she needed to steel herself for the chance that the appointment was sooner, rather than later. She took a drag of the cigarette. The telephone rang. 

“Hullo, Dr. Fitzpatrick’s,” a young voice said on the other end. “How may I direct your call?” 

“Hi, yes,” Linda said, in a somewhat affected accent. She didn’t want to speak in her normal voice and run the risk of being recognised as Paul McCartney’s fiancee. That was the last thing she wanted, and she knew it was the last thing he wanted. “I was wondering if I could speak with Dr. Fitzpatrick? My husband is a patient of his.” 

“One moment,” the receptionist said. “I’ll have to have you hold the line.” 

“It’s not any trouble, really,” she said. “I don’t mind.” 

After what felt like an eternity, the line engaged. “Hello, Dr. Fitzpatrick speaking,” Dr. Fitzpatrick said, his brogue evident. “Paul?” 

“No,” Linda said, maintaining her accent. “I’m afraid that it isn’t. Paul, I mean. It’s the missus.” 

“Ah, yes, Mrs. McCartney,” he said. “I suppose you’re calling to tell me that Paul’s in Antarctica?” 

“Why would I tell you that?” 

She heard Dr. Fitzpatrick sigh. “It was one of his more...creative excuses,” he allowed. “Most people would have picked a country not entirely covered with ice.” 

“No, Paul will be there,” she assured him. “I was just calling to figure out what time you wanted him there.” 

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Any time after six. It will be me and my assistant. No one else.” 

“All right,” she said. “We’ll see you then.” 

“Mrs. McCartney?” Dr. Fitzpatrick interjected. “Can you have Paul hold off on taking his prescription? I’m going to see if he’ll tolerate laughing gas.”

She nodded, and she absentmindedly rubbed her belly. “I’ll tell him. He’s resting now.”

Linda returned the phone to the cradle, and she ashed out the remains of the cigarette. She headed out of the room and closed the door behind her, not wanting Martha or the cats to disturb Paul’s workspace. With that done, she headed back downstairs. Her morning sickness had abated, but she was rather exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. 

A quick glance into Heather’s room, however, revealed that both of them were still awake.

“What are the two of you doing up?” Linda asked. She didn’t even bother to hide her exhaustion. 

“Mummy!” Heather chirped. “Daddy came up with a new game.”

“What is it, darling?” Linda asked. 

“It’s called napping tigers!” Heather squealed. “Da says that the tigers in the zoo have to take naps every day,” she informed her. “So big brave tigers who live at home do, too.” 

“That sounds like a good game,” Linda said, and she stifled a yawn. “Do you want me to get into bed beside Daddy? Or do you want to be in the middle?” 

“In the middle,” Heather declared. “We can have a Heather sandwich.” 

“Mmm,” Linda murmured in agreement. “You like Heather sandwiches, don’t you?” 

“They’re the best,” she said. “Come cuddle, Mummy.” 

“Yeah, Mummy, come cuddle,” Paul whispered. There was a hint of pain evident in his tone. “Join us.”

Linda unbuttoned her jeans and kicked them aside. Her jumper was long enough to cover things she didn’t necessarily want Heather to see, and what did she really care, anyways? They were at home. It was only the two of them. She didn’t see the point of laying down in uncomfortable trousers. 

She slipped into the bed, on Heather’s other side, and she snuggled close to her. Heather was so close to Paul that she was practically on top of him.

“She’s not bothering you, is she?” 

“No,” he said. “She’s okay. Duckie?” 

“What, Daddy?” Heather asked. “Are you okay?” 

“Do you want to nap on top of me?” Paul asked her. “You can, y’know, if you mind me mouth. That way I can be closer to Mummy and the baby.” 

“Are you sure that I won’t make your mouth hurt more?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s all right. Mummy’s sorted me enough that I can sleep.” 

“Okay,” she said. “When we wake up can we play dentist?” 

“Heather!” Linda whispered. “Don’t ask your father things like that.” 

Paul coughed. “What do you mean, play dentist?” 

Linda had no idea what Heather was talking about. 

“I want to see your boo boo,” she told him. “Please?”

“Heather!” Linda protested, though rather halfheartedly.. “I don’t think that your father wants to show you his broken filling.” 

“No, I don’t care,” he said. “Maybe you’ll tell me that I don’t have to go.” 

Linda was doubtful that would be the case. “The dentist told me that he has another way to sedate you,” she told him. “Laughing gas? I told him you’d try it.” 

“That’s fine,” he mumbled. “Not going to take anything anyways.”

Linda narrowed her eyes. “We’ll talk about that later,” she settled on. “Go to sleep, Paul.” 

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Heather said. “I’ll protect you from the dentist. I’m a big brave tiger, remember?” 

Paul groaned. “Yeah, I know you’re a big brave tiger, duck,” he said. “Just don’t feel much like being brave myself. I don’t feel very well, and now I can’t even take my pills?” 

“No one said that you couldn’t have some grass,” Linda pointed out, and she playfully nudged his shoulder. “Do you think that would make you feel better? Maybe help you sleep?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t see the harm in trying,” he said. “Have you got one handy?” 

She kissed him on the lips. “Don’t I always?” 

“I love you, Lin.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“What about me and the baby?” Heather demanded. “Do you love us?” 

Linda offered her a smile. “Honey, of course we do. We love the two of you so much.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Paul was the first to wake up, and he drew up his hand to wipe the bleariness from his eyes. He had been exhausted, and slept well, but he didn’t want to oversleep and miss his dental appointment.He was in too much pain. He really had no desire to go, but he knew that he had to. Mainly to set a good example for Heather. He loved her so much. He wanted to do right by the little one. 

Well, she wasn’t so little, he reckoned. Heather was a bright, charming, girl, especially for her young age, and it made him sad that she didn’t see herself that way. He hated everyone in her life that had made her feel that she was inferior. She wasn’t. She was theirs. She was perfect.

Except for the fact that she kept sucking her thumb. Heather was soundly asleep on his chest, her head nestled on his chest, and her thumb was firmly in her mouth. 

Not that Paul really cared. He knew that it comforted Heather. He thought there was no need for her to stop. 

Except for the fact that Linda had told him that the dentist at Dalton had torn into Heather for the fact that she was still sucking her thumb, in addition to the litany of complaints that the man had leveled against his five year old. He almost wanted to fly to New York, solely to give the man a piece of his mind. 

“Come on,” he told her, when she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Beside them, Linda let out a loud snore. “You know that you’re not supposed to be doing that anymore.” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t care,” she told him, her voice muffled by her thumb in her mouth. 

“Hettie,” he whispered. “Come on, duckie.” 

“I  _ said _ no,” Heather said. “Leave me alone.” 

The comment stung Paul, but he did his best to power past it. He didn’t want to show Heather that he was upset at being told to leave her alone. 

“You don’t mean that,” he said. Heather hadn’t moved from her position atop him, so he assumed that she wasn’t that angry at him. “I’m not telling you that you have to stop sucking your thumb because I want to be cruel to you. I’m just telling you that that’s what the dentist is going to say and y’know that he is.” 

Heather shot him a wounded look. “Stop it!” She removed her thumb from her mouth, in order to speak. “You sound like the dentist at school did!”

“Heather, you don’t want to wake up your mum,” he said hastily. Linda was pregnant. She needed her rest. “I don’t want to sound like the bloke from your school,” he told her. “I’m not sayin’ it to be cruel, y’know--”

Heather shook her head. “Yes, you are! You’re being mean to me!”

“Hey, come off it,” he said. “I thought you were a big brave tiger. Can’t ye be brave enough to do this? Or at least try?” 

“I was playing pretend!” Heather exclaimed. Paul could see the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m not a tiger! It’s just a  _ stupid _ costume! I’m not even brave! I don’t want to be big!” 

“Heather--”

“Don’t ‘Heather’ me. I don’t want to be big,” she whispered, a tremor evident in her voice. “I don’t want my  _ stupid _ six-year-old molars or my  _ dumb _ wobbly tooth!”

“What’s wrong with being big?” Paul was almost afraid to ask. It seemed that every day there was more damage to undo when it came to Heather, and he didn’t know if he wanted to open that particular can of worms when he already had to deal with his dreaded dentist appointment. “Aren’t ye excited to be a big sister?” 

Heather glanced over at Linda, who treated them both to a loud snore. “That’s different,” she said. “I can be a big sister without being big. I don’t want to stop sucking my thumb, Da.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “How will I feel better if I’m scared?” 

“What’re you scared about? You’re with me,” Paul whispered softly. “Mum’s right here, y’know, we can wake her up if you want to talk to her. She won’t mind. She’s just tired because of the baby.” 

“What if the baby doesn’t like me?” Heather asked him. “What if the baby finds out the truth?” 

Paul carefully inched his arm out from underneath Linda, pleased when she didn’t wake up, and he wrapped his arms around Heather. It was clear that she needed a hug. 

“What do you mean, the truth?” 

“That the reason I won’t look like you is because I’m not yours,” Heather whimpered. Her eyes filled with tears. “I know that you’re adopting me and that makes me a McCartney but my first dad, he left. He didn’t want me at all, and what if that’s because I’m a bad girl?” She sniffled. “Am I bad, Daddy? Is that why he ran away to Africa? Mummy tells me it wasn’t my fault, but what if the baby finds out and thinks that it was?” 

“Why would…” Paul trailed off. “Heather, Mel leaving had nothing to do with you, or your mother. Neither of you are bad, I promise. Your brother or sister, they’re not going to care. You look like your mum. You’re beautiful. If the baby asks why you don’t look like me, that’s the answer. You look like your mummy.” 

Paul had decided that after he went to New York to deal with the dentist, he would go to Africa and deal with Mel. 

“But why does it matter to people that I’m adopted?” She asked him. “Why do they even care? I thought being adopted meant that I was yours.”

“It does,” he assured her. “You are mine. I promise.” He smoothed out her hair with the palm of his hand. “And, y’know, you are brave.” 

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Tigers are brave. Not me.” 

Martha had shifted so that her head was on his lap, and he noticed that Heather was idly petting the sheepdog. 

“Honest, Het, you are brave. You came all the way from New York to live here, with me,” he said. “That took a lot of courage. And you told me and your mum that those kids at the school were bullying you. You didn’t try to hide it. I wouldn’t have told me mum and dad.” He kissed her on the top of the head. “Mummy said that you were brave when Thisbe had her kittens, too.” 

Heather glanced over at the cat. “She let me and Mum help her have them,” she said. “They were so teeny-tiny when they were born. Now they’re bigger.” 

“Yeah, they’ve grown up a fair bit, haven’t they?” Paul gave Mary a scratch behind the ears. The kitten let out a yawn.

Heather giggled. “Daddy! She’s gotten more kitty teeth.” 

“Has she?” 

She nodded. “Uh huh, they must have come while we were in Scotland.” 

“I didn’t mean to upset you earlier,” Paul said, his tone earnest. “I really didn’t. It’s just...you’re getting bigger, and that means that some things have to change. Wouldn’t it be better for you to be able to tell Dr. Fitzpatrick that you’re working on not sucking your thumb anymore?”

“I guess.” 

“You know that there are other things you can do if you’re scared,” he told her. “Honest. You can cuddle with your stuffed animals, you can tell us when you need some support,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind, y’know.” 

“Will you hold my hand?” Heather asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I’d feel better if you held my hand.”

“Of course I will,” he said. “I wrote a song about it, y’know.” He winked.

“Da,” Heather said, as she loosened her hold on him. “Look. Mum’s awake.” 

“Well, would you look at that,” he said. Linda had managed to wake up, and he grinned at the sight of her laying there, propped up with Heather’s pillows behind her head. “Hullo, Mummy.” 

“What a nice thing to wake up to,” Linda said, a smile on her face. “Have you been giving Heather trouble, Paul?” 

“No, never,” he said. “She’s not the dentist.” 

“You promised that I could look at your tooth,” Heather said. “Can I still?” 

“If you really want to.” He opened his mouth wide, so Heather could peer inside. 

Heather appeared to be appraising his teeth. “You have so many boo boos,” she told him. “Why?” 

“Mum died,” he said. “I got depressed. The dentist that we went to brought her up the last couple of times that we went, so I decided not to go back there. We weren’t really allowed to bring Mum up, y’know? I’d have had no choice but to see ‘im. We were on the dole, really. Dad wasn’t making much money, so we didn’t have our choice of dentist.” He sighed. “When Brian started managing us he paid for us to go to his dentist, who was a real posh bloke. He treated us terribly because we weren’t of the right class to be his patients, you see? The Epsteins, Brian and his family, they were, but Brian didn’t see things as being class based, so he didn’t think the dentist would treat us poorly. Since there had been some time between my appointments my teeth were in rotten shape. You’d have thought that a dentist would have been more understanding, but he reacted sort of like your school dentist in New York. So I decided to just not go back. I met Dr. Fitzpatrick through my g...through Dr. Asher,” he said. “He’s my doctor. You remember him, right, Hettie?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, we ran into him when you took me to the music store,” she said.

Linda giggled. “So you don’t want to see the dentist because he knows Jane, but you’re still using her father as her doctor?” 

He offered her a sheepish grin. “I reckoned it was worth a shot, y’know.”

“I know that you don’t want to go to the dentist,” she told him. “I don’t want you to be in pain.” 

“I’m going to go,” he told her. “Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it, y’know?” 

“I know,” she said, and she squeezed his thigh. “How’s my big brave tiger?” 

“I’m  _ not _ a big brave tiger,” Heather insisted. “Daddy said that I couldn’t suck my thumb anymore. It isn’t fair. I don’t want to be big, or brave, or any of it. I didn’t ask for my teeth to get wobbly or for my dumb molars to come in. I want them to go away, Mummy.” 

“Heather, we talked about this,” Linda said. “I understand that it’s hard to give up sucking your thumb, but the dentist told us that you needed to, remember?” 

“I  _ hate _ that dentist!” Heather said. “I hate that you made me go to that stupid school and I hate that you even listened to that dentist after he was so mean to you!”

“Heather--”   
  


“No!” Heather said in protest. “He said that you were unfit. You’re not! You’re not like Uncle John or Yoyo Nono. He made you cry!”

“Your mum isn’t unfit,” Paul interjected. “Heather, you have to understand, we’re not doing this to be mean to you. I get that the dentist said a lot of things to you that were untrue--”   
  


“Not just to me,” she whispered. “To Mummy, too.”

“Right, well, you know that they’re not true,” he said. “Mummy’s wonderful, isn’t she?” 

Heather nodded. “The  _ best _ Mummy in the whole world, that’s why it makes me mad to do anything the dentist said to do! He’s a wanker!”

Paul flushed. “That’s not a nice word, duck,” he said. “I mean, I don’t disagree, but you shouldn’t use words like that. They’re for people my age.” 

“I understand that you’re upset about having to stop sucking your thumb,” Linda said softly, and she opened her arms so Heather could crawl onto her lap. Paul watched as she kissed the top of her head. “And, honey, I’m sorry. If there was any way that you could keep sucking your thumb, I would let you.” She sighed. “But, you’re getting bigger, honey, and that means that you can’t do things like sucking your thumb anymore.” 

“But, Mummy, that’s not fair,” Heather whimpered. “It makes me feel better. Why can’t I feel better?” 

“I know that it makes you feel better,” she said. “I understand. But you don’t want the dentist to make you feel like the one at Dalton made you feel, do you?” Heather shook her head. “So, honey, you need to try.” 

Heather shook her head. 

“When Martha was a puppy,” Paul told her, as he wrapped his arm around Linda’s shoulders. “She’d get into everything. One of her favourite things to do was get into me wardrobe and chew up me shoes. Oh, I’d get so angry. But I couldn’t really blame her, y’know. She was a puppy. She didn’t really know any better. But, when she got older, y’know, she had to stop. Yeah, she liked chewing my shoes, but just because she liked it, doesn’t mean that it was okay for her to keep doing.” 

“Like you don’t want me to suck my thumb anymore?” Heather asked him, her voice muffled by the material of Linda’s jumper.

“Yeah, like that,” he said. “I wasn’t really angry with Martha, it was just something that needed to get done, even if she didn’t like it, y’know?”

Heather nodded. “So you’re not mad at me for sucking my thumb? Or having a wobbly tooth? Or having my molars?” 

“No one’s mad you, honey,” Linda said. “You’re just growing up, and it’s a little scary. It’s okay.”

Heather sniffled. “Do you think the baby likes me?”

“Of course they do,” she said. “Hettie, I think they love you.” 

“Then what did Uncle George mean when he was talking to Aunt Pattie about adoption?” 

Paul felt his blood run hot, and he drew in a deep breath. He didn’t want to upset Heather anymore than she already was. “What did he say? When did he say it?” 

“Mummy was sick because of the baby,” Heather reported. “But we didn’t know there was a baby yet. You left me in the...contact room?” 

“The control room, yeah,” he told her. “But what did he say?” 

“Just that he didn’t see the point of adopting because the baby they adopted wouldn’t be the same as a  _ real _ baby.” She sniffled. “I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want it to be true for you, too.” 

“It’s not true,” he said. “We’ll talk about that more later, okay?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to.”

Paul ran his hand through his hair. “I know that you don’t want to,” he said. “I still think that we should talk about it, at some point.”

“Why can’t we just get it over with?” Heather demanded. 

“Because I have to get ready for my dentist appointment,” he admitted with a frown. “Unless you wanted to talk about it instead?” 

She shook her head. “You need to get your boo boo fixed.” 

“No, I don’t.”

“Daddy!” Heather chastised. “If you don’t get your boo boo fixed, you can’t have cake after the wedding.”

“We’re going to meet your little cousin after the wedding,” he told her. “Are you excited?” 

She nodded. “Can we play tigers brush their tiger teeth?” 

“You can play with Mummy,” Paul suggested. “Daddy tiger doesn’t need his tiger teeth brushed.” 

Heather frowned. “Yes he does!”

“No, he doesn’t,” he said, in what he hoped was a playful tone. “Mummy tiger and Heather tiger can brush their tiger teeth.” 

“And Daddy tiger,” Heather insisted. “You have to brush your teeth before you go to the dentist. He looks that them. Do you want him to be mad at you and shout?” 

Paul reached for his cigarettes. “He’ll be mad at me and shout anyways,” he told her. “He always does. I can never do anything right.” 

“Paul, that’s not true,” Linda said. “You do plenty of things right, and being scared of the dentist is okay. I just think that the dentist might be concerned that you’ll do a lot of damage to your teeth if you keep ignoring him. I don’t necessarily think that he’s yelling at you.” 

“You know I don’t like when people think I’ve done wrong, Lin,” he said, his gaze fixed on his lap. “He criticises me. All the time.”

“Honey, he’s just concerned,” she said. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

“No, I’m not,” he mumbled. “Not nervous about anything.” 

Heather peered over at him. “Can I help you? I can help you brush your tiger teeth.” 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mummy nodded. “I get it, Paul, but you--” 
> 
> “Can I hold your hand?” Heather asked her dad brightly, wondering if the magical hand holding made him feel better, too. She knew that Daddy was nervous about going to the dentist. Heather didn’t understand why. Dr. Fitzpatrick had seemed okay to her. He was a dentist, which made her suspicious by default, but he hadn’t been mean like the one back in New York. “Daddy?” 
> 
> Mummy glanced over at her. She and Daddy had been sharing one of their special cigarettes. 

“How long are you going to keep staring at the door?” Mummy asked Daddy. Heather had to agree that it was a valid question. Daddy had been staring at the door to Dr. Fitzpatrick’s office building for what felt like forever. Heather had been counting the mississippis, but she’d lost count long ago. “It’s cold out, Paul.” 

“I don’t want to be early,” Daddy said. Heather watched him scrub his beard with his hand. “He’d expect me to get in and get it over with if we went in now.” 

Mummy eyed Daddy worriedly. “Wouldn’t that be better?” 

Daddy shook his head. He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “I understand, it’s cold out,” he said. “Are ye cold?” He asked Mummy. “D’you want my jacket?” 

“I’m fine,” Mummy said. “I’m just worried about Heather. And you!” 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Daddy told her, though he leaned in and gave her a kiss. Mummy and Daddy kissed a lot. “Why are you worried about me, Momma?” 

Heather watched as Daddy brought Mummy to him for another kiss. Mummy was wearing one of Heather’s favourite jackets, the black fur one that she thought made Mummy look like she was one of the moggies. Daddy had told her that he had worn it in one of the pictures that he’d made, a film called Help. She just liked it because it was warm and cuddly. Sometimes, Mummy and Daddy let her wear it. But Mummy needed it today. 

Heather was plenty warm on her own, as was Penny. Penny was curled up under her arm. Heather had wanted to bring Martha, but Mum had said no. 

She didn’t want to go to the dentist. Her mouth had been hurting like Daddy’s was. Not to mention she didn’t want to get yelled at for sucking her thumb. She was still upset that she’d been chastised earlier.

“I know you don’t like the dentist,” Mummy told him, and she touched his cheek. “Honey, I know that you don’t. You don’t have to pretend to be brave for me.” 

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Mummy said, and she wrapped her arms around Daddy. “Sort of like how it’s okay to be tired, it’s also okay to be scared of the dentist, and to admit that.” 

“I don’t want to scare Hettie.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not scared,” she told him. “Honest. Dr. Fitzpatrick was nice to me when we saw him when we were getting Mummy her flowers.” 

Heather had to admit that, while she wasn’t scared, she was growing bored and more than a little confused with the current situation. Hadn’t Daddy pointed out the very building that they were standing in front of when they went to get Mummy’s flowers? A few hours ago, he had told her that it wasn’t scary at all. But, now, he seemed reluctant to even step his toe inside.

“Why aren’t we going in?” Heather asked him. “I thought that Dr. Fitzpatrick said that everyone was gone when Mummy called him from the payphone.” 

She gestured in the direction of the telephone box, which Daddy glared at. “I know what he said,” he said after a moment. “Why do we have to go at all? Can’t I just have them done during our appointments?” 

“Paul--”   
  


“You’re in pain,” Heather said. “You have a big hole in your mouth.” 

Daddy shrugged. “So? I’ll just go to the off-license and handle it myself.” 

“Paul!”

“What are you talking about?” She had to admit she was curious. “What’s an off-license?” 

“I’ll buy me a bottle of whiskey,” he said. “That’ll sort me.” He smiled down at her. Well, she thought it was supposed to be a smile. It looked closer to a grimace. “An off-license is a store that sells liquor,” he told her. “There’s one over there, I can bring you to show you?” He sighed, and his gaze dropped to his shoes. “I reckon that I ought to do the right thing, though, and go to the dentist. It’s what your mummy wants, even though I don’t know why.” 

“Why wouldn’t I want you to get your filling replaced?” Mummy asked him. “Dr. Fitzpatrick was very kind to stay late to see you.” 

“I know he was,” Daddy mumbled. “I just don’t want to go in there. I’m scared.” 

Mummy nodded. “I get it, Paul, but you--” 

“Can I hold your hand?” Heather asked her dad brightly, wondering if the magical hand holding made him feel better, too. She knew that Daddy was nervous about going to the dentist. Heather didn’t understand why. Dr. Fitzpatrick had seemed okay to her. He was a dentist, which made her suspicious by default, but he hadn’t been mean like the one back in New York. “Daddy?” 

Mummy glanced over at her. She and Daddy had been sharing one of their special cigarettes. 

“Paul,” she said. “Heather’s asking you something.” 

“What is it, duckie?” 

Heather beamed at the special nickname that Daddy had given to her. He had given it to her before he was even her daddy, back when they were in her and Mum’s apartment -- no, flat -- in New York, and he was just Paul. Heather had been suspicious of him at first -- Mummy was meant to be hers, and no one else’s -- but he had won her over. Mainly by being nice to her, and giving her attention. 

Heather loved her mum, but she was only one person, and she had to leave Heather often for work. Typically, Heather was left with her Grandpa Lee. 

Grandpa Lee was an important lawyer who spent a lot of time doing work. When he was forced to bring Heather to work with him, she was either instructed to sit there quietly, or foisted off on a secretary, or if she was lucky, her Uncle John.

Heather had two Uncle Johns. One of them was normal and lived in New York, and the other one scared her. Especially when he had Yoyo Nono around. 

Grandpa Lee wouldn’t have left her with the second Uncle John. He didn’t like people who had long hair. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to hold my hand,” she told him. “You said it might make me feel better.” 

Daddy looked down at her for a moment. Heather met his gaze. It was cold out. Mummy had made her wear her new jacket, and a scarf. But Daddy looked like he was sweating. Why was he hot? His brow looked to be caked with sweat, and when he accepted the offer of holding Heather’s hand, his palm was clammy to the touch. Was he sick? Heather wondered. 

“Are you okay?” She asked him. 

“What, darling?” Daddy asked. Mummy held tightly to Heather’s other hand. Her palm wasn’t clammy at all. “What do you mean?” 

“You’re sweating,” Heather said. “It’s so cold out, why are you sweating?” 

“Is it cold out?” Daddy asked. He coughed. “I haven’t noticed.”

“Are you getting a cold?” She continued her line of questioning. “Do you think you need to go to the doctor?” 

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine, duckie. I need another smoke.” 

Daddy had smoked more cigarettes than Heather could count on the drive over. Heather had been impressed. 

“Why don’t you just go inside?” Mummy suggested. “You’ll feel better once it’s over with.” 

Daddy shook his head. Heather watched as he opened a new pack of cigarettes, and lit one with practised ease. “When did you start smoking?” Heather asked him. “Last year?” 

“No,” he said. “I started smoking when I was at the Institute. It was more than a year ago.” 

Heather accepted this. “How old were you?” 

“It was after me mum died,” he told her. “Smoking, it made me feel better,” he said. “Gave me something to do, y’know?” 

“Like sucking my thumb?” Heather was still annoyed by earlier. 

“No, it’s different,” he said. “Smoking doesn’t make you need braces, duckie.”

“I don’t care about needing braces,” she whispered. “I want to do something that makes me feel better.”

“Heather, I don’t think now’s the time,” Mummy said. Heather glowered at her. “I just mean that Daddy is nervous about going to the dentist, sweetie.” 

“Oh,” she whispered. “Is that why he’s smoking so many cigarettes? One after another? I lost count, Mum. Does that mean I’m stupid?” 

Mummy and Daddy exchanged a glance. “You’re not stupid, duckie,” Daddy said. “Why would you ask that?” 

“That’s what everyone at school would say,” she reported. “They’d make fun of me for acting like a know-it-all, when they weren’t making fun of me for how I talked, or for you being my dad.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t mean for them to think that I was lying about knowing how to add and subtract, and for knowing how to read.” She sniffled. “They thought that I was lying about you teaching me. So am I? Am I stupid?” 

“No,” Mummy said. “You’re not stupid, Heather, those kids were just cruel. Not being able to count as many cigarettes as Daddy smoked doesn’t mean that you’re not smart, it means Daddy’s smoking a lot of cigarettes.”

“How many did you count, duck?” Daddy asked her. “Before you lost count?” 

“Seventeen,” she told him. “So many, Da.” 

Daddy shrugged. “Well, I can’t help it, y’know? I don’t like going to the dentist. It makes me feel uncomfortable.” 

“But your tooth has a big boo boo on it,” she insisted. “I saw it. Remember?” 

“I can just ignore the boo boo,” he said. “I’ve got ways of handling the pain, y’know.” Heather watched as Mummy gave Daddy the special cigarette. “Are you sure, Lin? You can have it.”   
  


“It will make you feel better,” Mummy told him. “You know that, honey, why are you fighting it?” 

“How do you know, Mummy?” Heather asked. “I don’t think your teeth have any boo boos! At least, I didn’t see any when I looked.” Heather gazed at her inquisitively. “Martha didn’t have any boo boos either,” she recalled. “Daddy? Can dogs go to the dentist?” 

Daddy had taken the special cigarette, so he took a moment to answer her. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think so, they’re dogs. Why would you ask?” 

“Because, when I looked at Martha’s mouth to see if she had boo boos like you, her breath smelled bad. I didn’t want to brush her teeth because I didn’t know if that was safe for doggies. Do you know if it is? Do you think that Dr. Fitzpatrick will know?” 

“You could always ask him, honey,” Mummy suggested. “Do you want me to carry you until we get inside?” Mum had already taken Penny from her. The dog was peeking out of her purse.  


“No,” Daddy said. Heather gave him a wounded look. “I’ve got her, Lin. I don’t want you lifting her. Not while you’re pregnant.” 

“But, I want Mummy to carry me up,” Heather whinged. “She asked me if I wanted her to! You didn’t even let me answer. That’s not fair!”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he told her. “I know that you want Mummy to carry you, but she’s pregnant. It might not be good for the baby for her to be carrying ye all that way. There’s not an elevator in there.” 

“First you won’t let me suck my thumb, now Mummy can’t carry me? That’s not fair. Why does everything have to change?” Heather stamped her foot. “I don’t want to get big. I want Mummy to still be able to carry me and I don’t want wobbly teeth and I don’t bloody care if sucking my thumb means I have to get wires.” 

“Everything isn’t changing,” he told her. Heather narrowed her eyes. “Honestly, Heather, I promise that I didn’t say that your mum couldn’t carry you to be mean. I wouldn’t do that. I just don’t want her to overexert herself, y’know?”

“I don’t know what that means,” she said after a moment. “Overexert.” 

“It means that she’s pregnant,” he said. “And we ought to be careful that she doesn’t lift things, y’know? It might not be safe for her and the baby.” 

Heather contemplated this. She didn’t want to do anything that would hurt her mummy, or the baby. She loved the baby already, and of course Heather had loved her mum from the moment that she’d been in her tummy, just like her little brother or sister was. 

“I guess if you don’t want Mummy to carry me because of the baby, that’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t know that it might not be safe for the baby.” 

“D’you want me to carry ye?” 

Heather absentmindedly rubbed the side of her mouth. “Doesn’t your tooth hurt?” 

“I don’t mind carrying ye,” he said. “I know that you don’t like to walk on your own when there’s crowds.” 

“Why is being carried okay, but not sucking my thumb?” 

“Why do you suck your thumb, Hettie?” Mum asked her. “Do you want to tell us?” 

Heather shook her head. The last thing that she wanted to do was have a conversation about why she sucked her thumb. It was none of Mummy and Daddy’s business. 

“Does she have to talk about it?” Daddy asked Mummy, as he scooped her up, and opened the door to the building. They were soon inside. Not that Heather cared. She was safe in Daddy’s arms. “She probably doesn’t want to have the conversation round the dentist’s, y’know?” 

“I was only asking a question,” Mummy said. “I just want to help her, Paul. It’s just that Heather  _ stopped _ sucking her thumb, and now she’s started doing it again?” 

“Lin,” he said. “I know that you worry about her. You don’t think that I don’t?” Heather found herself pressed against Mummy, as Daddy gave her a hug. She didn’t really mind. Daddy’s hugs were nice, and it sounded like Mummy needed one. “I just...she stopped before, didn’t she?” 

“Yeah.”   
  


“I’m sure that she’ll stop again, y’know, so long as we don’t make a big deal out of it. That’s what the book I’ve been reading says.” 

“You’ve been reading a book? About parenting?” 

“Yeah, y’know, maybe it’s daft, but I want to know about this stuff,” he said. “You’ve had five years on me, y’know? I want to be a good dad. I want to do right by her. Not just by her, y’know, by the little one on the way.” 

“Did you get that book at the library?” Heather asked him. They had finally entered the dreaded building, and she could feel Daddy’s heart beating faster. “When you took me and Mummy?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I reckoned that if you could learn about going to the dentist, I could learn about ways to be a better dad, and learn about how you, and the baby, are developing.” 

She sighed. Mummy had gotten a book out about the dentist, and Heather had refused to even look at it. She had only been interested in The Tiger Who Came to Tea. It was one of her favourite books. She got it out of the library whenever she could, and she hoped Father Christmas was going to bring her a copy of it. Maybe she could have been nicer about the dentist, though. It wasn’t Mummy’s fault she wanted nothing to do with it. 

“Mummy?” 

“Yes, Hettie?” 

“Will you read the book with me?” Heather asked her. “The book about the dentist?” 

The Tiger Who Came to Tea had accompanied Heather to the dentist’s office. She could read that on her own, though. Mummy had let Heather bring Penny, as well. Heather adored the stuffed dog that her dad had brought with him to meet her the first time. It was one of her trusted companions.

“Of course,” Mummy said. “We’re going to get some takeaway when we’re done here, and you can look at the dentist book with Daddy and me when we get settled back at home. How does that sound?” 

“Daddy won’t want to read it with us,” she said, and she sighed. “He hates the dentist.” 

“I--I’ll read it, Heather,” Daddy said. “We can look at the dentist book together. You, me, and Mummy.” 

“After your dental work?” Mummy asked. Daddy nodded. “Paul, you don’t have to read.”

“I like when Da reads to me,” Heather insisted. “Why doesn’t he have to read?” 

“Mum thinks that my mouth might feel too funny,” he said, after a moment. “I dunno why. I’ve only got to get one filling fixed.” 

“What about the other boo boo?” 

“What other boo boo?” Daddy asked. 

“I  _ told _ you that there was another boo boo,” she reminded him. “It wasn’t silver like your fixed ones.” 

“I’m not going to mention that to Dr. Fitzpatrick,” Daddy told her. “He doesn’t need to know.” 

“You’re going to lie to him?” Heather asked, her eyes wide. “Why would you do that?” 

“Daddy’s kidding,” Mummy told her. Mummy’s tone made it clear that she didn’t find Daddy’s comment to be very funny at all. “He’s not going to lie to the dentist, because that wouldn’t be very well behaved, now would it?” 

Heather didn’t quite know why Mummy gave Daddy that look. 

“Cor, Lin, of course I wouldn’t lie to the dentist,” Daddy said, rather hastily. “I was only having a laugh, y’know.” 

“That’s what I figured.” 

Heather sighed. She felt out of the loop. “Daddy?” 

“Yeah, duck?” 

“Should Mummy carry Penny? And her purse?” Heather had noticed that Mummy was carrying things, even though Daddy had said she wasn’t meant to carry Heather. “Are you sure that’s okay? Mummy?” 

Mummy drew in a deep breath. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” she said. “Do you think that we should start heading upstairs now?” 

“We don’t have to,” Daddy said. “We could just stay here.” 

Heather had no idea why Daddy would have preferred to stay in the main lobby to the office building, which was grey and nondescript. She thought that it looked quite boring, especially in contrast to the photographs that she’d seen of the office that Daddy himself worked at, which was bright and colourful. Heather had never seen an office so colourful, and she wanted to go visit it in person. 

“But this is boring,” she said. “There’s nothing to do here. You can’t even sit.” 

“Aren’t you afraid that people are going to figure out that  _ you’re _ standing here?” Mummy asked him. Heather shuddered at the thought. She didn’t want anyone to notice them. The fans scared her. “Think of Heather, Paul. Or me. I’d like to sit.”

Daddy heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Lin,” he whispered. “We can go up. I’m just nervous.” 

“The fans are scarier than the dentist,” Heather told him. “There’s only  _ one _ of the dentist. There are so  _ many _ fans.”

Her position on the fans clear, Heather settled herself back against her father’s chest. She knew that he would protect her from anything, even the things that scared him. Daddy wasn’t as scared of things as she was, but it appeared that he was terrified of the dentist. She really wasn’t sure why. Had Daddy’s dentist humiliated him in front of everyone at school like Heather’s had? Grandpa had been so angry when he’d heard about the report that the dentist had given her. Heather had barely escaped without being dragged to the dentist he’d used, and that was only because it had been the dentist that had come to the school. 

“Do you want to hold Penny, darling?” Mummy asked. 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, can I?” She reached out for her beloved dog, and she tucked Penny into her arms. Penny was a yellow lab puppy, and Daddy had named her after Penny Lane, which he’d explained was both a song that he’d written, and a place that he’d spent a lot of time in when he still lived in Liverpool. She slept with Heather every night, even though Heather didn’t always sleep in her bed. Penny accompanied Heather to places that Martha wasn’t allowed to go to. Heather wished Martha had been able to come with them. “Can we go upstairs, Daddy?” 

Mummy squeezed Daddy’s arm. “Come on, Papa, it will be all right. I promise.”

“You two will stay with me?” 

“Of course we will,” she cooed. “The whole time. We’ll stay right by your side, so that you can hold my hand. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he said. “Can ye hold me hand now?” 

* * *

  
  
  


The door to the office had been left ajar, and it took all of Paul’s composure to avoid slamming it as he entered the dental surgery. If Heather hadn’t been in his arms, whispering things that he couldn’t hear to her stuffed dog, he might have done so. He didn’t want to scare her, though. 

“You like Penny, don’t you?” He asked her. As promised, the doctor had cleared the surgery of anyone that wasn’t himself or his assistant, but Paul didn’t see the need to go into the examination room yet. There was plenty of distraction to be found. “Duck?” 

Heather nodded. “She’s my favourite,” she said. “You gave her to me.” 

“Yeah, I know I did,” he whispered. He kissed her on the forehead. “I’m glad ye like her.” 

“This is a nice office,” Linda commented. She squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m going to sit down.”

Paul hated every aspect of Dr. Fitzpatrick’s office. From the walls, coloured a nice blue, to the nicely framed photographs of places in Ireland, in both colour and black-and-white, to the comfortable chairs in the waiting room. He especially hated the large fish tanks that the doctor had had installed in the office. 

After a dental conference, Dr. Fitzpatrick had had the fish tanks installed in the office, and had brought Paul into the waiting room to see the fish in their new habitats. 

Though Paul had been uninterested to hear what happened during the torture session, but Dr. Fitzpatrick had described it in detail during one of his reluctant appointments. It was almost as though the dentist had tried to make it seem like he and his fellow dentists were human beings instead of people who were put on this earth to inflict pain upon him. It was a good trick, really. He’d almost believed it…until Dr. Fitzpatrick had mentioned that he was doing it to make the dental surgery seem more welcoming to children and families. 

Paul had known there were children subjected to the misery of a dental exam, a pain he knew well since the sugar ration had ended. Jane herself had been a patient of Dr. Fitzpatrick’s since she was a child. She even seemed to like him. But the thought of the dentist using the innocent fish to try to convince the children that he was friendly and wasn’t going to hurt them? Well, that was uncalled for. 

He’d clearly expected his problem patient to be impressed by the efforts that he’d made to make the dental surgery ‘seem more like home’, but Paul had been unimpressed. He was an animal lover, and had little desire to see the poor fish stuck in tanks at, of all places, a dental surgery. 

Dr. Fitzpatrick had insisted that his patients found the fish to be something soothing to look at. Paul hated their very existence. 

He had never expected his own child to betray his position on the subject. 

“Look, Da!” Heather squealed, her excitement evident in the volume of her voice. She pointed in the direction of one of the tanks. “He’s got fish! Can I go see? You didn’t tell me that he’s got fish!” 

“No, duck--”

Linda, who had taken advantage of one of the chairs, interjected. “Of course you can look at the fish, sweetie. Why don’t you let Daddy put you down so you can look at them, and he can sit here with me and keep me company?” 

“Okay, Mummy,” Heather said. Paul carefully set her on the floor. She made a beeline for Linda. More specifically, for her mummy’s tummy. “Is the baby okay?” 

“Yes, sweetie,” she said. “The baby’s fine. I just needed to sit for a little bit, okay?” 

“Do you want to cuddle with Penny?” 

“That’s sweet, honey, but I don’t have to,” Linda said, though she accepted the dog when Heather shoved it onto her lap. “Maybe Daddy might like to…?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh-huh, Daddy can hold Penny during his appointment,” she whispered. “I know that you’re scared, Da. It’s okay. Penny helps me feel less scared sometimes.” 

Paul wanted to tell her that he wasn’t scared, but he didn’t think that he’d be at all believable, and there wasn’t any real harm in allowing Heather to think that she was helping him by allowing him to cuddle the soft toy. Heather had reclaimed the dog from her mum, and was holding it out to him. 

“You really want me to hold Penny?” Paul asked her. “Are you sure?” 

Heather nodded, her fringe falling in front of her eyes. “You look nervous,” she told him, her voice lowering to such an extent that he could barely hear her. “Penny makes me feel better.” 

Paul wanted to lie and tell Heather that he wasn’t nervous, and that he didn’t know where she’d come up with the idea. He just couldn’t bring himself to behave quite so ridiculously in front of his good-as-wife and their daughter. He knew that neither of the McCartney women were going to believe his excuses. He took the stuffed dog from Heather, and left it sat on his lap. 

“Come ‘ere,” he said, and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Why don’t ye go look at the fishies, duck?” 

“What are you and Mummy going to do?” 

Paul glanced over at Linda. “We’re going to talk for a few minutes, I think,” he said. “Then...we’ll go on in.” 

“You won’t leave me out here, will you?” Heather asked. “I don’t want to stay out here with the fish. I want to go in.” 

“We’re not going to leave ye out here,” Paul promised her. “I wouldn’t do that to ye, Hettie. I just know that you want to look at the fish, y’know, and I don’t want you to not be able to look at the fish just because I’m nervous.” He kissed her again. “Go on. It’s okay.” 

“Are we allowed to look at the fish?” Heather questioned. “You said no, but Mummy said yes.” 

Paul let out a sigh. “I didn’t mean it,” he admitted. “I just said that because I don’t want to be here. Of course ye can look at the fish. That’s what they’re here for.”

Stupid Dr. Fitzpatrick having gone to that bloody torture session that had convinced him to introduce ‘homier measures’ into his bleeding dental surgery, Paul thought to himself, his mood rather dour. How dare he do that? How was Heather meant to see how horrid the dental surgery was if she was hoodwinked into thinking it might not be because the dentist had fish? 

As if the good doctor had been summonsed, he spotted the dentist and his assistant having the nerve to peer into the waiting room from the corridor. Paul scowled. There was no need for them to bring him in early, and he didn’t want to have to engage in pointless small talk. There certainly was no need for Dr. Fitzpatrick’s assistant to be practically swooning over his child. 

He hadn’t had any issues with Siobhan when she’d merely been Dr. Fitzpatrick’s child, but she’d grown up and become a bloody dental assistant. He’d tried to stop associating her career with the little blonde girl who’d grown out of her childhood awkward phase right in front of his eyes, but it was difficult. How was he meant to process that the eleven year old who had been so pleased to get tickets to one of their local shows had turned into someone who worked for his greatest tormenter? Had she even liked him at all? 

He supposed it was to her credit that she seemed to be admiring Heather, though from a distance. He had been terribly nervous about bringing Heather to the dentist, both because it was, well, a dentist, and because she had already such a terrible time settling in in England. He hadn’t wanted to make it worse. 

Siobhan had been the one he’d originally spoken to, and she’d sounded so pleased to hear from him on the telephone. He’d been flattered, especially when she had mentioned that she was looking forward to meeting his daughter. He liked when people acknowledged that Heather was his. He liked it so much he’d forgotten that they’d be seeing each other at the dental surgery. 

“I ought to tell them to fuck off,” Paul whispered in Linda’s ear. “How dare they listen in on us?”

Linda sighed. “You act like they’re eavesdropping,” she told him. “Did it occur to you that they probably wanted to make sure it was only you, instead of some errant fan?” 

It hadn’t. Occurred to him, that was. “They wouldn’t do that,” he insisted. “Why would they bother?” He lit up a cigarette. It was his first since they’d gone into the building that contained the dental surgery. Paul thought he was doing fairly well. 

“Because,” Linda told him. “I know this is hard for you to believe, but the dentist does things like accommodating you after hours on a whim to try to help you. I know you don’t like the dentist. But, Dr. Fitzpatrick could have made you go up there when you ran into him at the florists, and he instead let you come now.” She stole the cigarette from him, and took a quick drag. “It’s almost Christmas, Paul. He didn’t have to do that.” 

Paul let out a sigh. “You can finish that if ye want to,” he told her. “My mouth hurts too much.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he told her. “What’s the point of bloody pretending it doesn’t? No one believes me, and it’s making me miserable. Finish the ciggie. If you don’t want it, I’ll finish it off. I can’t waste it. They cost money, y’know.” 

“Are you okay?” Linda asked him. “Paul?”

“‘m fine,” he mumbled. “Bloody brilliant. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just a bloody dentist appointment.” 

“Paul?” Siobhan asked, and he glanced over in her direction. He didn’t want to be rude to her. “Are you ready to come in?” 

He shook his head. “I can’t, Siobhan,” he insisted. “I’m sorry...I can’t--I can’t do it.” He could hear the desperation in his tone, and he hated himself for it. “Please don’t make me.” 

“Can we just have a minute?” He heard Linda request. Though she was beside him, her voice sounded like it was quite far away. “He’ll come in, he just needs to take a second.” 

“I’m don’t need a bloody minute,” he hissed. His heart felt like it was pounding triple time, and he felt like he’d run a few kilometres without the proper training. The fact that the dentist had refused to allow him to take his pills only added to his sense of discomfort, but he did his best not to let it show. Despite the torment he felt, Paul faintly remembered that he was meant to be polite and presentable. 

There was concern evident in Siobhan’s eyes, and he wanted it to go away. He could handle the fact that Linda had taken ahold of his hand, but concern from someone who worked for the dentist? That he couldn’t handle. 

Presentable Paul it was. “Right, Siobhan,” he said. “I don’t want to be early, y’know. I’d hate to start a precedent we all know that I’m not going to keep. This is my wife,” he said. It was important to Paul that he remember his manners. His mother would be so disappointed in all of this. “Linda.” 

He couldn’t fault Linda for also being polite and extending her hand for Siobhan to shake. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “We really just need a minute alone...Dr. Fitzpatrick said that you had things to show children to make them feel more comfortable at the dentist’s?” 

Heather glanced over at them. Though he’d hoped that the fish would continue to mock him by holding her interest, it was clear that Daddy humiliating himself was also a source of entertainment. 

He drew in a deep breath, and beckoned her to him. “Siobhan,” he said, and he plastered on what he hoped was a smile, though he was dubious it was a successful one. Heather was eying him warily. “I want you to meet my daughter, Heather.”

“Daddy, are you okay?” Heather asked, in a rather concerned tone. “You’re sweating again.”

Paul neglected to answer the question. “Mummy and I want you to go with Siobhan,” he told her. “It will be brilliant. I think there’s a treasure chest?”

Heather let out a howl. “I don’t want to go,” she said. “Not alone. Not by myself. It’s scary.” 

“Siobhan’s not a bad person,” he told her. He rationalised that it wasn’t a lie because she had been nice to him before she had sat her A Levels and told him that she had plans to train as a dental assistant. “She’s nice, honest, duck. I promise.”

Heather sized up Siobhan. He could tell she was suspicious. Or maybe she recognised her from the park near the house, where they walked Martha. Talk about another betrayal. Martha befriending the dentist’s dog had left him beside himself.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Hettie. I promise. Sometimes Siobhan’s dad would have to bring her with him when I needed to be seen by him right away. Like when he made me come and get my tooth fixed after my little accident.” Perhaps that lecture had been one that was justified. “I told him that I didn’t care if she was in the room or not, and she would tell me what she and her mates had gotten up to at Sacred Heart of Mary’s, daft stuff, y’know, but it helped distract me while he was working on me fake tiger tooth.” 

“Why did her school have a funny name?” 

“I went to a girls’ school,” Siobhan told her. “An academy. For Catholics.” 

Paul nodded. “They’re from Ireland,” he told her. “That’s right, right?” 

“Northern Ireland,” she corrected him. 

“Right,” he said. “But you didn’t always go there, right?”

Paul had vague recollections of a younger version of Siobhan, who had burst into the appointment he’d had to have his impacted wisdom teeth removed, uncaring that her father was in the middle of a dental appointment,. She had barely acknowledged that Beatle Paul was there in the flesh. The girl had been upset about the students at the primary school that she’d attended because they’d been bullying her. Dr. Fitzpatrick had done his best to comfort her, though he was in the middle of Paul’s extractions, but she’d been inconsolable. 

Paul had felt terrible for the lass. It wasn’t her fault that her father had subjected her to wires, and it wasn’t her fault that she had a rather thick accent that marked her as being from Northern Ireland, and he’d felt that it was his duty to try to cheer her up. 

“No,” she said. “I went to George Elliot.” 

“That’s where we sent Heather,” Linda interjected. “In St. John’s Wood?” 

Siobhan nodded. Paul had forgotten the name of the school she’d said she attended. In his defence, she had said that while he was dosed up on some rather strong painkillers. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty that he’d sent Heather there. 

Heather gazed up at her. “They were mean to me there,” she whispered. “Da, he said that I don’t have to go back.” He heard her sigh. “If I go with you,” Heather said, her comments directed to Siobhan. He could hear the edge to her tone. “Can I get Daddy something from the treasure chest?” 

Siobhan nodded. “You can get your mum something too.”

“And the baby? It’s not going to be born for ages, but, can I get it something anyways? Daddy says he only goes to the dentist once a year.”

Paul wanted to chastise Heather, but she continued her line of questioning. “Does the treasure chest have any tigers in it?” She asked. “I’m a tiger.” 

“I can tell,” Siobhan told her. Even he could hear the gentleness in her tone. “Did Daddy buy you your tiger costume?” 

Heather shook her head. “Mummy did. Where we lived before. She said I could wear it today to show everyone that I’m a big brave tiger. They’re my favourite type of moggy. I don’t know why Daddy and Mummy won’t let me have one as a pet.” 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “D’you really think that Mum’d be proud of me?” 
> 
> Linda nodded. She wanted to find Paul’s childhood dentist and give him a piece of her mind. How dare he tell a child whose mother had died such awful things? Even if his mother would have been disappointed at the state of Paul’s teeth, to use her in that manner was reprehensible.
> 
> “You do?” 
> 
> “Of course, I do,” she cooed. She covered his hand with hers. “She has so many things that you’ve achieved to be proud of.” 

“You’re not coming with me?” Heather asked her mum and dad, disappointment evident in her tone. She didn’t want to go off with a virtual stranger. Especially one who worked for the dentist! “You promised that I could watch them fix your tooth!”

“You’re going to get to see that,” Mummy’s tone was one of exceeding patience. “Daddy and I just need a couple moments to ourselves, that’s all.” 

“But why?” She demanded. “That isn’t fair. I want to stay with you.” 

Daddy offered up a rather miserable cough. “Hettie--”

“Hettie?” Heather echoed. “Hettie what? You know that the dentist hurt me! Now you want me to meet him all on my own?” 

“Dr. Fitzpatrick wasn’t the dentist who hurt you, and you know that,” Daddy reminded her. “I don’t want Siobhan to bring you to meet him without me and Mum, but you’ve already met him, remember? At the florists?” 

“That was different! You said he wasn’t a dentist when he wasn’t here!” 

“Heather, please--” 

“I won’t tell you again,” Mummy sounded rather cross. “Please, Heather, just go with Siobhan. Just for a few minutes.” 

Heather scowled. “You promise that it won’t be for a long time?” 

“I promise. She’s going to show you a treasure chest, remember?” 

Heather was conflicted. “What about Penny?” She didn’t want to take the dog from Daddy, but what if he left her behind when Dr. Fitzpatrick made him go into the scary room for his appointment? Penny would be scared to be alone in the waiting room. “Will you and Daddy take good care of her?” 

“Of course,” Mummy cooed. “We’ll take the very best care of her. I promise.” 

Heather didn’t bother to justify her mother’s comment with a response. She was infuriated. They’d lied to her. Daddy and Mummy had  _ promised _ that they’d never leave her with another sitter, and they’d just fobbed her off on stupid Siobhan at the first opportunity. Did they think that she was too dumb to notice that? Sure, Siobhan may have been known as a dental assistant, but it seemed blatant to her what her true role was: being stuck in charge of Heather while Mummy and Daddy did grown up things that Heather wanted to be included in. 

“I’m just going to take her into the staff room,” she could hear Siobhan telling her parents, while she did her best to ignore their presence. “I promise, Paul, nothing will happen to her.” 

“What do they care?” Heather demanded. “They just want to get rid of me!”

“Heather!” Mummy chastised. Heather cringed at the tone of her voice. “We don’t want to ‘get rid of you’. Daddy just needs a few moments to himself. All you have to do is go into the other room with Daddy’s friend Siobhan. You even get a toy.” 

Heather wanted to tell her mum that she hated her, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice the words. She didn’t hate Mummy. She loved Mummy. Even if Mummy was being very mean to her, and making Daddy be mean to her too. She didn’t want a stupid toy from the treasure chest. She wanted to sit with Daddy and help him feel better.

“You’re mean!” She settled on. “You don’t listen to me at all!”

“Heather Louise!” Daddy said in a tone that Heather had never heard him use before. “I want you to go with Siobhan, now. When you get back, you’re going to apologise to your mother.”

Heather scowled. “I don’t have to apologise to her! She’s got to apologise to me! Why are  _ you _ being mean to me?”

“Come on,” Siobhan encouraged. “It’s okay, Heather. I understand. Nobody enjoys having to make an emergency appointment at the dental surgery.” 

Heather had little desire to go with Siobhan to see what she was sure was a torture chamber. She wanted to stay with her mum and her dad, but Mummy seemed exhausted, so she hadn’t wanted to push her luck. Even Daddy had seemed willing to force her to go, and he hated the dentist. What was the point of going with Daddy to the dentist if he was going to be taken away from her? That wasn’t fair. All Heather wanted was to be close to her mummy and her daddy. Now they’d sent her off with some stranger! 

Sure, Daddy had said she was kind, but she worked for the dentist. How could someone who worked for someone who hurt people be kind? She didn’t understand. 

When they got into what Heather assumed was the staff room, Siobhan asked if she wanted to sit down. Heather surveyed the room with tear-filled eyes. There was another fish tank filled with the colourful fish she’d been admiring in the other room. The room had several comfortable looking chairs to sit on, and a settee. While Heather would have normally agreed to sit down on one of them, it was all suspect to her. It was a dentist’s office, after all. 

“I don’t want to,” Heather whispered. “The only thing that I want to do I can’t do.” 

“You’ll be able to see your parents in a few minutes,” Siobhan said in response. Heather shook her head. That hadn’t been what she’d meant. She desperately wanted to suck her thumb, but she knew better than to admit that in front of someone who worked for a dentist. “Oh, do you mean getting a tiger?” 

“Mummy and Daddy think they’re too dangerous.” Heather rolled her eyes. “They’re just big cuddly moggies with tiger teeth.” 

“I don’t think that my parents would let me have a tiger, either,” Siobhan told Heather, and Heather let out a sigh. It wasn’t fair that the dentist and Daddy agreed on this. She loved Thisbe and her teeny tiny kittens, but she had gotten to see some tigers at the Central Park zoo when she’d still lived in New York, and promptly became enamoured of the creatures. “Have you seen the tigers though?” 

“The tigers don’t live here,” Heather did her best to modulate her tone. Not only did it make her sad that she might never see the tigers at Central Park again, there was also the fact that her admittance was going to lead to questioning. She didn’t want to get upset and have to deal with Siobhan attempting to comfort her. It was a stupid thing to get upset over, really. 

They were just tigers. 

If only the tigers were really the issue. Heather just didn’t want to admit to her companion that she wasn’t originally from England. Sure, she had pretended that she believed Daddy was her dad, but Heather wasn’t stupid. People pretended that all the time, at least while Daddy and Mummy were there. When they weren’t, it was another story. 

“They live where I lived before. There was a zoo there. Mummy took me to see them.” 

Heather desperately wanted to suck her thumb, but she forced herself not to. She didn’t care how nice Daddy claimed Siobhan was. She worked for the dentist. 

“Daddy hasn’t taken you to the London Zoo?” Siobhan asked her. 

She shook her head. “I didn’t know there was a zoo here,” she admitted. “Do they have tigers?” 

Siobhan nodded. “Of course they do,” she said. “Mummy tigers and daddy tigers, and little tigers like you.”

Heather knew that the little tigers weren’t going to be like her. How could they be? They were born here, in London. The baby that Mummy was pregnant with would be like them. Heather wasn’t. She wasn’t even like the little tigers in New York. They’d been born at the Zoo. The sign (Mummy had read it for her, because she had taken her before she had learnt how to read) had informed her and Mummy that the tiger cubs had been born in captivity. 

Heather had been born in a place called Tucson. She didn’t think the London tigers had been born there. 

“The little tigers aren’t like me. They’re from here. They’re not from stupid New York.” 

Heather didn’t think that New York was stupid, but she knew that everyone in London did. Especially the kids that she’d gone to school with. Every day she had had to listen to comments about everything. How she looked, how she dressed, whether or not her dad was her dad, and, most galling of all, how she spoke. Daddy had told her that she had a perfectly lovely voice, but Mummy was the only one who’d agreed with him.

No one had believed he was her dad, either. That had hurt most of all. Daddy had even gone to the school to try to convince them, and nothing had come of it. The headteacher had promised him that she would put a stop to it, and she had: she’d put a stop to Heather’s ‘complaining’ by swatting her with the school’s cane. 

Not that she’d mentioned that incident to either of her parents. She hadn’t wanted to make them angry at her. 

“Is that where you’re from?” Siobhan asked her, in what seemed to be a curious tone. Heather eyed her warily. “New York?” 

Whenever someone found out where Heather was from, all of the hard effort she’d put into assimilating into an accent like her dad’s completely evaporated. She hated it. All she wanted was for people to see her as a McCartney, not a liar. She wasn’t a liar. It wasn’t her fault that she was both a McCartney and from New York. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Heather whimpered, after a moment of silence. She twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. “The tigers were from there, that’s all. Some of them were babies,” she recalled. “They were so tiny. Not big at all. Mummy told me that they were called cubs. She told me that they would be big like the mummy and daddy tigers one day.”

“Did your dad go with you?” Siobhan asked. Heather glanced up at her, and she slowly shook her head. Mummy had taken Heather to the zoo before Daddy had come to New York. 

“Daddy wasn’t there,” she answered, hoping that her evasive answer would satisfy Siobhan’s question. “Me and Mum, we went after she took pictures of some of her mates at the zoo. I’d wanted to go with her, but she’d told me that taking pictures was her job, so I needed to stay with the sitter.” She wrinkled her nose at the memory. “I don’t know why she took me to the zoo afterwards,” she added. “She’d already been.” 

“I think she took you to make you happy,” Siobhan replied. “You had a good time, didn’t you?” 

“I liked to see the animals. But, I told you, that’s in New York. It’s different.” 

“You know, I’m not from here, either,” Siobhan informed her, her accent lilting. “It was hard for me when we moved here from Derry. That’s where I was born.”

“I thought you were from Ireland.” 

“Northern Ireland,” she said. “Derry’s where we lived, though. It’s like how we live in England, but London’s a city? Do you understand?” 

“We lived in New York,” Heather admitted. “In Manhattan. I don’t like to talk about it because I hated it. Grandpa Lee made me go to a school where everyone made fun of me and his dentist tormented me, and everyone made fun of me for that, and then Mummy had to work all the time, and she had to leave me with babysitters. Sometimes she took me to the Fillmore East with her,” she added. “I liked that. I felt so grown up. Mummy went to London for a few weeks and when she came back she had my daddy with her,” she continued, not willing to look Siobhan in the eyes, but at least willing to speak to her. “He wasn’t my daddy then,” she admitted. “Mummy told me that he was someone she loved very much and that she hoped that we might want to become a family together.” Siobhan smiled at Heather when she said that, and she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t a big deal, was it? Siobhan had a pretty smile, though. It reminded Heather of Mummy’s. “At first, I called him Paul. He brought me Penny, because he had a dog at home and he wanted me to have a dog, too. When Paul came...Mummy didn’t have to work so much anymore. When she did work, he was there, so I didn’t have to have a baby sitter. He told me that he didn’t mind being with me. I don’t know why he does now.” Her lower lip wobbled. “Maybe it’s because of the baby? It will really be his. No one will ever say otherwise. Maybe he realised that.” 

“I don’t think that it has anything to do with you,” Siobhan told her. Heather was surprised when she knelt on the surgery floor. “Your dad, he’s never been great at coming to the dentist. I think that he’s had some bad experiences at other dental surgeries,” she elaborated. “Sometimes it’s hard to find the right fit, like when you didn’t like the babysitters your mum found for you?” 

“Daddy said that  _ your _ daddy wouldn’t let him take his pills,” Heather recalled, in a rather accusatory tone. “This is your daddy’s fault. Daddy wouldn’t be so upset if he took them to feel better.” 

“I know,” Siobhan admitted. “Maybe that was the wrong thing for him to suggest.” 

“What do you mean?” Heather demanded. “He said that Daddy needed to try something called laughing gas. I don’t even know what that is. Is he going to hurt him? I don’t want him to get hurt, Siobhan.”

“My dad wouldn’t have wanted your dad to get this upset,” Siobhan told her. Heather deigned to look her in the eyes. “I think that he wanted to try the laughing gas on him so that he might be able to drive you home.”

“Daddy doesn’t like making Mummy drive,” she supplied. “She didn’t drive a lot when we lived in New York, and they drive on the wrong side of the road here.” She scratched the side of her face. “Maybe he’s nervous because of the accident he got into? It sounded scary. I saw a picture of what he looked like.” 

“You saw the film they did for Paperback Writer?” 

She shook her head. “No, Uncle Mike took a picture of Daddy after he got hurt. It made me sad to see. I wish that I’d been there, so I could have given him a hug.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What does laughing gas do?” 

“It will make your dad not feel anything that my dad does at all,” Siobhan told her. “He’ll get really giggly, you know? Really up?” 

Heather wondered if she meant how Dad and Mum got when they smoked the special cigarettes. She vowed to ask them if that was what Siobhan had meant later. She didn’t want to get Daddy in trouble with the dentist. 

“I like when Daddy laughs,” she admitted. “It makes me happy. Sometimes he makes me laugh, too.” 

“He’ll probably say some daft things when he’s on it.” Siobhan grinned at her. Heather managed to smile back. “It’ll be okay, honest. I think that Daddy and Mummy just needed a few minutes to themselves, that’s all. You can get them some stuff from the treasure chest.” 

“Is it really okay if I get something for the baby?” 

“I bet it would make your mum and dad happy.” 

Heather liked that idea. “I know that they love us both,” she insisted. It was important that Siobhan know that. “I just didn’t want them to leave me.” 

“I think that your daddy needed a moment with just your mummy so that he wouldn’t have to pretend that he was okay being here. Even though my dad would never hurt him. Sometimes the procedures make your mouth feel funny.”

Heather drew in a deep breath. “Grandpa Lee’s dentist hurt me,” she admitted. “He went to the school that I went to in New York and he made all the kids who hadn’t had dentist appointments see him for an appointment at the school. He thought that I was still sucking my thumb and he yelled at me, and when he poked at my teeth it really hurt. I had to sit on a folding chair. I wanted Mum and no one would get her for me. Everyone at school made fun of me.” 

“I’m sorry, Heather,” Siobhan said. “None of that should have happened. It won’t happen here. There’s a comfortable chair for you to sit in, and Mummy and Daddy can both stay. My dad won’t make you have a dental cleaning alone.” 

“Daddy won’t want to be there,” she whimpered. “The dentist scares him.”

“No, Heather, that’s not true,” Siobhan assured her, her tone gentle. “Your dad...he doesn’t like the dentist, that’s true, but he’ll be there for you. I promise. I remember once, I was upset because the kids at school were teasing me about my wires, and about my accent. I was in the waiting room crying, because my dad was in with a patient. I didn’t want to interrupt him because the patient was having an important procedure done. When your dad came out, he asked me if I was okay, and he sat down beside me while I cried. He didn’t care that he was still at the dental surgery or that his ride home was waiting for him, or that he was on enough painkillers to knock out a horse...he really wanted me to feel better. A couple of days later, he stopped by here to bring us tickets to one of his concerts. He made me feel really special. So, I’m sure that he’ll stay for your appointment and hold your hand. Maybe he’ll even sing for you.” 

Heather scrubbed at her face. “I like when he sings to me. Sometimes he and Mummy sing together when he plays the piano, or the guitar.” She sighed. “Can I pick out the things from the treasure chest?” 

Heather didn’t want to hear about Siobhan having had to get wires. Wasn’t it bad enough that they were in a dental surgery and she was forced to pretend she believed that Siobhan was nice? She didn’t want to hear about poor Daddy being forced to get his teeth pulled, or the dentist subjecting his own daughter to the dreaded braces. She loathed the fact that what she’d assumed was only a lie to her grandfather to get her away from his evil dentist had turned into the reality of having to have a dental cleaning. 

There was something that she was curious about, though. Had Daddy really gotten Siobhan tickets to one of his concerts? Heather was a bit jealous. Mummy had been to see Daddy and his band play when they’d come to New York, before he was her daddy, and now even Siobhan had been? That wasn’t fair. 

“Did you get to go?” Heather asked. “To the concert. Did your daddy let you go?” 

Siobhan nodded. “He did.” 

“I wish that I could go to a concert,” she admitted. “It isn’t fair. Mummy got to see Daddy play, you got to see him play, but not me.” She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t know if she was supposed to admit that the Beatles were fighting. She knew that Uncle John being in the princess castle was supposed to be a secret. Daddy seemed to think that, at least. Heather didn’t want to make him angry again. 

“Have you asked your daddy?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, Daddy doesn’t like to talk about work when he’s at home,” she informed her. “He told me that we were going to have a big party for the record that’s coming out soon! Mummy and Daddy met at the one for Daddy’s last record. So, I asked him if we could have a big party for this one, and if I could go. At first, he pretended that he didn’t want to have a big party for the record,” Heather told her. “I don’t know why. He worked so hard at it. Sometimes he and Uncle Ringo were the only ones who worked. I tried explaining that to him but he still pretended he didn’t want to, so I had to explain how Mummy had been to one and I wanted to go to one too.” 

Siobhan giggled. “You must be looking forward to it?” 

“Uh-huh,” she chirped. “Da said that he’d take us to the store that they own let us pick out pretty dresses! He said that we could get whatever we wanted.” Heather could hardly wait. Her excitement dimmed as she recalled the last thing that her dad had said to her in the waiting room. He’d been so angry at her. She still didn’t understand why. She tried so hard to make mum and dad happy. “But that was before. He’s mad at me, now. He yelled. He’s never yelled at me before. I didn’t mean to be bad, Siobhan, honest.” 

“I don’t think that he was mad at you,” Siobhan told her. “Look, Heather. I think it may have upset your parents when you didn’t want to go with me, because they needed a few minutes alone. I think your dad needed a break from being brave.” 

Heather pondered this. “But, Daddy is always brave,” she said. “Honest! Why wouldn’t he just tell me he was scared? I’m scared of lots of things. I would have understood.”

“I don’t know, Heather.” 

Heather didn’t know either. She was sure that Daddy knew she was scared of things. Wasn’t that why he and Mummy let her spend the night with them sometimes? Because of her bad dreams? Now he was trying to pretend that he never got scared? Daddy was so silly sometimes. 

She decided to change the subject. They’d approached the treasure chest, and she wanted to pick out the best treasure ever for the baby. Even though Mummy insisted the baby wouldn’t be there for a long time, Heather didn’t see the harm in getting the baby a treasure. 

“I’m gonna be a big sister,” she gushed, the excitement she felt about her new role overruling her trepidation at appearing anything more than aloof towards the dental assistant. “Mummy and Daddy asked me if I wanted to be a big sister, and I told them yes, so now they’re going to have a baby. But not for a long time. Mummy said during the summer.” 

“Do you want a brother?” Siobhan asked her. “Or a sister?” 

Heather shrugged. “I want a sister,” she admitted. “But I heard Daddy tell Mummy he wanted to have loads of babies with her. So if it’s a boy, that’d be okay. I just want the baby to come. Mummy says when it’s older I can share a room with it if I want to.” Heather did. She felt it unfair that Mummy had said no to it from the beginning. “Da said that the baby won’t care if it looks like him and I don’t, because he said that I look like Mummy. Mummy’s so beautiful.” She glanced up at Siobhan. “Are you a big sister?” 

“Yeah, I’m the eldest,” she told her. “Just like you.” 

Heather had never seen such a pretty treasure chest before, and Siobhan told her that she had decorated it herself. While Heather would have never normally contemplated complimenting someone who worked for the dentist, she put aside her principles for the moment. Heather couldn’t believe that she could pick out a treasure for everyone, even the baby. There were so many treasures that she didn’t know what to choose. 

“I want the horse,” she told Siobhan. “I think that Father Christmas is going to be bringing me one. I told Mummy and Daddy that that was what I wanted.” She cradled the figurine in her hands. There were three other horses in the treasure chest. They were different than the one that Heather held, but she wanted to give them to Mummy and Daddy. And the baby. Even though she knew that the baby wouldn’t be born for some time. “I want to get  _ everyone  _ a horsie.”

“What kind of horse are you getting?” Siobhan asked. “Do you mean a stuffed toy?” 

She shook her head. “No, a real horse. Mummy and Daddy already have some. I want one of my own, so that I can ride on it by myself.” 

“I’ve ridden horses,” she told her. “I used to show them.” 

“Show them what?” Heather didn’t know what Siobhan meant by the comment, but she was confused by the fact that she had shown horses things and then stopped. “Did they get bored? Is that why you stopped?” 

“Oh, no. Show means...it’s a fancy word that means I used to ride them in competition.” 

“Do you still  _ like _ horses?” Heather asked. “Even though you don’t ride them in competition anymore?” 

“Of course I do,” she assured her. “I just got too busy, you know? I was studying to be a dental hygienist.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Why? You don’t seem scary.” 

* * *

  
  


Linda hadn’t particularly wanted to send Heather off with Siobhan. She had a feeling that the guilt was going to eat away at her for a while. Heather had always had a hard time dealing with being away from her, and it was clear that being in England hadn’t lessened her daughter’s hatred of the concept. Unfortunately, Heather’s discomfort at being sent into the other room was outweighed by the fact that Paul was having a panic attack. Not that Paul wanted to admit that out loud.

“Is everything okay in here?” Linda heard an unfamiliar voice ask, and she glanced in the direction from where it had came. It was clearly the dentist. “Would Paul like to get his appointment started?” 

“Paul…”

Paul shook his head. He held Penny in a death grip, and he’d shifted himself in the chair so that his back was turned to the dentist. Linda was fairly certain that he was crying. She was equally certain that he didn’t want the dentist to know. Given Paul’s allergies to admitting he had feelings around people he loved and cared about, she felt it was a certainty that he disliked the dentist knowing that he was upset. 

“I think that we’ll just take a few more minutes,” she answered, shifting in her seat so she could look Dr. Fitzpatrick in the eyes. “Heather wants to be there.” She settled on the simplest explanation, out of a kindness to Paul. “Siobhan is showing her around.” Linda offered the dentist a sweet smile. “That’s fine, isn’t it? If we wait for her to be done?” 

“I don’t see it being a problem,” Dr. Fitzpatrick assured her. “I’ll just be setting up the examination room, and the x-ray machine.” 

Beside her, Paul let out a groan. “I had an x-ray the last time I came in,” he mumbled. His voice was muffled due to the position of his arms, and the stuffed dog. “Why do I have to have another?”

“It’s important for you to get regular x-rays,” the dentist continued, having made the mistake of mistaking Paul’s complaint as an opportunity to impart wisdom upon him. “Given your history of dental procedures, you need to keep on top of these things.” 

“I can refuse a procedure,” Paul told him. “I ought to refuse that.” 

Linda sighed. “Honey, wait.” She placed her hand on his back, and attentively eyed the doctor. “Are you going to want to give Heather an x-ray? When it comes time for her appointment?” 

“Yes,” he said. “It’s our standardised procedure for all new patients. We’ve recently installed a new x-ray machine that halves the time that the patient spends being x-rayed, as a matter of fact. It’s the latest model. I’m sure that Heather won’t have any issues with it.” 

“I ought to refuse it for her, too,” Paul muttered. “You’d never let me do that, would you?”

Linda lifted her hand, and ran her fingers through his hair. “I just think that instead of refusing to have an x-ray done, you could just...have the procedure done and show Heather that it’s okay? That it’s not scary? She looks up to you, Paul.” 

“Fine, I’ll have another x-ray,” he mumbled. “Do what you want, Dr. F.” 

“You  _ want _ me to set up the x-ray room?” Dr. Fitzpatrick sounded faintly amazed. “Are you certain?” 

“I don’t want you to, but, I’ll do it for Heather,” he told him. “I can’t have her thinking that she’s allowed to pick and choose what she’s subjected to at the dentist.” She heard him draw in a shuddering breath. “Go on, set up whatever it is you need to set up. Linda and I, we’ll be fine. We won’t destroy the place.” 

Paul had managed to meet the dentist’s gaze for a moment. “Honest,” he said. “I just want a moment alone with my wife. Does that suit you?”

“Of course, Paul,” he assured him. “I just wanted to give you the option to get things started early, that’s all.” 

Paul’s death grip on Penny increased. “I don’t want to get things started early.” His tone was impressively measured, but Linda could hear the hint of fear behind it. “I just want to have a moment with my wife.” 

“We won’t be long,” Linda assured Dr. Fitzpatrick. “I promise, I’m not going to let him run off.” 

She waited until the dentist had left the room, and she returned her attention to Paul. Linda had never seen her fiance in such a state of distress, and she didn’t enjoy seeing him in pain. When Paul had told her that he was prescribed sedatives in order to go to the dentist, she had assumed that there was a chance that it was a prescription written out of deference to the dentist’s famous patient. She hadn’t expected that Paul would have a panic attack if he’d gone without them. If she had known, she would have told the dentist that he was just going to take the sedatives. Instead, she’d insisted that he’d be willing to try the procedures with laughing gas. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She placed her hand on his arm. “I should have asked you what would happen if you didn’t take the pills. This is my fault.” 

Paul shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Lin.” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t’ve told you. It’s embarrassing.” 

“What’s embarrassing about it?” She questioned. “You weren’t embarrassed when I told you that I get panic attacks on flights.” In hindsight, she probably should have asked why Paul had access to Valium. She’d just been grateful to have something to take the edge off the international flight, especially with a five year old, that she’d decided not to ask. “What’s the difference between having a fear of flights and a fear of the dentist?” 

“Of course there’s a bloody difference,” he insisted. “Having a fear of flying, that’s normal. Your mum died in a plane crash. Of course you’d be scared. It’s different for me. Mum didn’t die at a bleeding dental surgery, Lin! All I’ve done is disappoint her.” 

“You haven’t disappointed your mother, Paul--” 

“I told her that I’d take care of myself,” he interjected. “I didn’t know that she was going to die! If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been such a bloody liar. She’d be so cross with me. All I’ve done is fuck up.” 

Linda drew in a deep breath. “Can I sit with you?” Paul nodded, and she climbed off the chair that she’d sat on, and settled on his lap. She purposely arranged herself so that she faced him. Paul reached his hand out and caressed her abdomen. “You haven’t…” She trailed off. Frankly, she was unsure where to begin. “What a ridiculous thing to demand of a fourteen year old.” 

“What?” Paul coughed. “What are you talking about?” 

“It makes me angry that your mother could demand that you promise to take care of yourself in one breath, and not bother to admit to you or your brother that she was dying in the next,” Linda explained, in a rather exasperated tone. “How could she justify that? You were children. Your mother was sick! She was dying! What were you meant to do? Just carry on with life as if it was normal?” 

Paul nodded. “That’s what we were meant to do. I’ve told you that.” 

“I know, Paul. I just find it hard to believe! I’m not upset with your mother, Paul, I know that she just wanted what was best for you. I’m angry that you’ve thought you’ve been failing your mother for fourteen years, when, honey, she’d be so proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much. She wouldn’t have only looked at your teeth as a reason to be proud.” 

“That’s not what the dentist said when I got this filling done the first time.” Paul’s tone was barely audible. “He’d known me mum, y’know. Everyone knew that she’d died. He told me that I was letting her down because I’d neglected me dental health. That if I’d really wanted to do her proud I’d have been keeping regular appointments and not relying on sweets for a quick fix. That she’d be disappointed in the state of my teeth.” Paul pressed his hand down against the material of her jumper. It seemed that the presence of their impending arrival centred him. At least to a degree. “D’you really think that Mum’d be proud of me?” 

Linda nodded. She wanted to find Paul’s childhood dentist and give him a piece of her mind. How dare he tell a child whose mother had died such awful things? Even if his mother would have been disappointed at the state of Paul’s teeth, to use her in that manner was reprehensible. 

“You do?” 

“Of course, I do,” she cooed. She covered his hand with hers. “She has so many things that you’ve achieved to be proud of.” 

“I wish she was here. I’d have liked her to have met you, and our Hettie, y’know?” Paul brushed a kiss to her forehead. “I think she’d’ve liked the two of you.” He offered her a smile. “I know that I like the two of you. Well, it’s three, now, y’know.” He glanced down at their hands. “I can’t wait until everyone knows that.” He let out a sigh. “Heather’s probably mad at me. For how I acted. What if she doesn’t want me to be her dad anymore?” 

“Trust me, that’s not going to happen,” she said. “Honestly, honey. Heather loves you. She’s not going to stop wanting you to be her father just because you yelled at her.” 

“Are you sure?” Paul’s tone was broken. It was clear that he’d been upset to have had to yell at Heather to begin with. “I was horrible to her. She must hate me.” 

“I’m sure.” Linda shifted so that she was straddling him. She didn’t care that she was wearing a skirt, or that neither the henley or jumper that she’d borrowed from Paul’s wardrobe did much to hide that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts had ballooned in size practically overnight, and she didn’t have the energy to go to the shops to try to find bras in her new size. Why bother? She hated them. Paul didn’t seem to mind that she’d abandoned wearing them. “It’s okay to be cross sometimes, honey. It’s part of being a parent.” 

“Are you sure?” Paul’s tone was subdued. He clasped her hand in his. “Lin. Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Linda leaned in for a kiss, which she was pleased that Paul reciprocated. “Honey, I know that you’re hurting. That you’re in pain. It was natural that you got snippy at Heather. You were entirely justified in what you said. What she said to me does deserve an apology.” 

Paul ran his fingers through her hair, and he kissed her again. The second kiss was deeper than the first, which had been sweet and chaste. Linda wished that they weren’t at the dentist, because she was more than willing to have her way with him then and there. Her hormones were constantly changing due to the pregnancy, and, at that moment, she was horny. The baby had seemed to have settled itself down, and she had gotten a nap in before Paul and Heather had returned unexpectedly early. That night, she wanted to have sex. 

Paul deserved it. More importantly, so did she. 

“C’mon, Papa,” she purred, her voice low and directed into his ear. “You feel up to giving my breasts a little attention?” 

Paul licked his lips. He eyed her hungrily. “I always feel up that,” he said with a wink. 

“Mmm.” She shifted so that he could more easily access her breasts. “Show me.” 

He slipped his hands under her shirts, and she felt his fingertips dance up her sides, before both of his hands cupped her breasts. Paul had to be in a lot of pain, but his fingers caressed the slope of her breasts regardless. She bit back a moan of pleasure as he made contact with her increasingly sensitive nipples. If they hadn’t been at the dental surgery, she would have been quite vocal, but she hoped that Paul understood how pleased she was with his ministrations. She was certainly reacting to him physically, if not out loud. Paul was responding physically as well. She could feel his erection grow as she sat on his lap. She kissed him eagerly, first on the lips. She then pressed a trail of kisses down his neck, and onto his chest. She returned her lips to his mouth, capturing his moan in the process. 

If Heather hadn’t been with them, she’d have dragged Paul off to the loo. She certainly didn’t object to one of his hands being snaked up her skirt, his fingers tracing the hem of her underwear. 

“Show me ‘round your snow peaked mountain way down south,” he sang, whispering the tune in her ear. “Take me to your daddy’s farm.” 

“Later,” she whispered. “I promise, later.” 

“I love ye, Lin.” Paul whispered. He nibbled at her collarbone. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” She smiled softly at him. “So much.” 

The door that led to the staff room opened, and Linda thought briefly of pulling away. She rationalised that she didn’t much care, and she settled her head on Paul’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her. 

“Is it okay?” Siobhan asked. “Heather wants to show you what she got from the treasure chest.” 

Linda glanced up at Paul. “It’s up to you.” 

“Of course, I want to see her,” he promised. “Come on, duckie, it’s okay. I want to see me little tiger.” 

Heather peeked out from behind Siobhan. “You do?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, duck. Come here. I want to see what you got from the treasure chest.” He patted the seat beside them, which had been Linda’s. She hoped Heather would join them. “First, though, do you have something to say to Mummy?” 

Heather had crossed the room to where they sat, and she stood in front of them. “I’m sorry, Mummy,” she whispered. “You’re not mean. I was just upset because you made me go with a sitter after you promised me that wouldn’t happen since I had a dad now.” 

Linda felt a wave of guilt wash over her. No wonder Heather had been upset.

“I think that you misunderstood what Mum said,” Paul informed Heather, who had sat down on the chair beside them. “Mummy meant that you wouldn’t need babysitters while one of us worked, y’know, because the other one would be there to watch ye, to make sure you were okay. There might be times when we need someone to take care of ye, though. I’m sorry that I was harsh to you.”

“Are you okay, Daddy?” 

Paul drew in a deep breath. “I was having a panic attack,” he told her. “I thought about not telling ye because I didn’t want ye to worry about me, but I think you’d be concerned either way. Mummy says it’s okay to have feelings and stuff, too.” He scrubbed his face. “I think she’s right about that.”

“Are you okay now?” Heather fretted. “I can go away again.” 

“No, duck,” he said. “You don’t have to do that. Mum and I, we want to see what you got.” 

Heather glanced over at Linda. “Do you, Mummy?” 

“Of course, my little tiger.” Heather grinned at her use of the nickname. “We want to see them, and then we have to go back to the examination room, so Daddy can get his tiger tooth fixed.” 

“Tiger teeth, Mum! He’s got two that need help!”

Linda settled her hand in Paul’s lap, and she carefully palmed his erection through the material of his trousers. It was bold, yes, but she didn’t want to hear another edition of Paul’s feelings over being forced to have a dental examination. It was certainly an effective distraction. She unbuttoned his jeans, and inched her fingers across his briefs. She did her best to maintain a straight face as his hips bucked against her. 

“Well, the dentist will fix whatever teeth need to be fixed,” she assured Heather. She decided to pretend that the groan Paul let escape was due to her tease of a hand job, and not because he was complaining about having to get his teeth fixed. “Then, we’ll get to go home...and have an  _ enjoyable _ evening.” She pressed a kiss to Paul’s forehead. “What did you get us?” 

“Horsies!” Heather squealed. Her eyes were wide with excitement. “I got everyone a different horse. Because we’re a horsie family. Will you hold onto the baby’s, Mum? Until it’s born?” 

* * *

  
  


Paul did his best to maintain a neutral expression, not wanting to let on to the fact that Linda had her hand firmly on his package. Though she’d pulled her hand out of his jeans and settled it on top, there was still an evident tent that he was grateful neither of the others had noticed. Thankfully, Linda was still sat on his lap. He quite liked the fact that she’d decided he was a more comfortable spot than the chair. Heather had been sitting there, but she’d climbed off after showing them the horses she’d given them. The fish were much more interesting to her than the sorry state of her daddy’s mouth. He hoped that Heather’s infatuation for the fish would allow Linda to return to her ministrations. He was in need of her magic touch. He just wasn’t sure if they were capable of being discreet. 

Siobhan was someone he’d known since she was a child, and Heather  _ was _ Paul’s child. There was no need for either of them to know that Linda was feeling quite frisky. 

He cleared his throat. “Have you finished your courses yet?” He asked Siobhan, in what managed to be a nonchalant tone. “I thought that you had a couple more left to do when I saw ye last.” 

Siobhan nodded. “Yes, I finished them. I was taking a couple courses about how to help mitigate fear of the dentist, and specialised care for children.” 

“And you passed your exams?” Paul continued his line of questioning. “Have ye gotten your licensure done yet?” 

“I have,” she confirmed. “Top marks.” 

“I’d expect nothing less from a lass like ye,” he admitted. “You’ve always been smart, Siobhan. Just because the kids you went to school with were wankers, that doesn’t mean that applies to you.” The pressure from Linda’s hand increased, and Paul let out another groan. He made sure to place his hand to the side of his mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbled, once he’d regained composure. “You know, me tooth hurts.” 

“But, Da,” Heather interjected. Though she was by the fish, the noise he’d made had drawn her attention. “You’re holding the wrong side of your mouth! Your boo boos are on the  _ other _ side. I saw them!”

Paul felt his face redden. “Are they, duck? Maybe you ought to keep watching the fish. They’re quite brilliant.”

Siobhan let out a giggle. “Do you want to look at Daddy’s tiger teeth with one of the special mirrors we use?” She asked Heather. “When we get into the examination room. You can examine all of your dad’s tiger teeth with it. And even bring it home!”

“Uh-huh,” Heather said, and she nodded in agreement. “I want to make sure that Daddy doesn’t have more boo boos. Maybe some of them are hiding from him? Does that happen, Siobhan?” 

Linda’s hand shifted. “You’ve been doing a programme to make it okay for children?” Paul asked her, his tone slightly breathless. “Siobhan?”

“Yes, it’s my specialisation,” she informed him. “I’m not going to upset her, Paul--”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s not that,” he assured her. “Hettie?” 

“Uh-huh? Are you okay?” 

“D’you think you could be a big, brave, tiger and go with Siobhan? She’s got a special camera that ye can get a special picture of your tiger teeth taken with. I’ve got to get one done myself, y’know, and I’m so nervous…” 

Heather eyed him with wide eyes. “Okay, Daddy,” she whispered. “I can be brave for you and do it first. You’re okay, right?”

“I’m okay,” he promised her. “Mummy’s just going to sort me out, y’know?” 

Heather nodded. “Okay, as long as Mummy can make you feel better.” 

Paul offered her an easy grin. “Oh, duck, your mummy knows just what to do.”

“I’ll go with Siobhan, and let her take the pictures of my tiger teeth,” Heather told him. “Mummy can do the best job taking care of you.” 

“Maybe she can do so in the loo?” Siobhan suggested. There was a smirk on her lips. “Surely you’d hate for my dad to interrupt.” 

“Nothing to interrupt,” he lied. He was grateful that Heather had agreed to go with Siobhan without much of a fuss. He didn’t know what had gotten into Linda, but he rather liked it. He didn’t want the dentist to interrupt them. “We’ll just be a few more mo--OH--ments, that’s all. Maybe we ought to go into the loo?” 

Paul was fairly certain Dr. Fitzpatrick did not want their relationship to include the day he’d walked in on him and Linda on the list of bad memories. Paul certainly didn’t. 

Linda gazed at him with hooded eyes. They were blackened with lust. “Mmm, yeah, Papa, I think the loo’s as good a place as any.” She fixed her gaze on Heather. “Will you be a good girl for Siobhan?” 

“Uh-huh, Mummy. Be good baby. I’ll see you soon.” 

“You don’t have to worry about the baby, duck,” he promised her. “It’s brilliant, y’know. Just like you are.” He grinned at her, and then smiled at Siobhan. “This is me daughter, y’know. I never thought I’d have a chance to be a daddy, and now I’ve got it made. We’ve an instant family. Haven’t we, duck?” 

“The bestest family ever,” Heather told him. “I love you, Daddy.” 

“I love you, too,” he assured her. “Come ‘ere. Gimme a kiss.” Heather kissed him briefly on the lips, before she stood beside Siobhan. “You’ll take good care of me baby, right?” 

“Of course I will,” Siobhan assured him. Paul felt better about the whole thing. It meant he didn’t have to stop Linda from having her hand exploring every inch of him. “You trust me, don’t you?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I trust you,” he admitted. “When we come in, I’ll let ye look at me tiger teeth with the mirror, okay, duckie?” 

“Okay, Da. You have to be brave and get the pictures of your tiger teeth done too.”

“I will,” he promised. “Cross me heart, y’know? I’ll do anything for you.” 

Heather grinned. “I love you, Daddy. And you, Mummy, and the baby.” 

Paul grinned back. “I love you, duck.”

Paul waited until Heather and Siobhan were out of the room before he turned his attention back toward Linda. He desperately hoped that he wasn’t misreading her cues. Did she really want to head into the loo with him to help him with his little problem? Paul wasn’t averse to handling the situation on his own, of course. He’d been doing so since Linda had first started experiencing the symptoms of pregnancy. She’d been feeling quite poorly, with her morning sickness and everything, so he hadn’t wanted to make her feel obligated to have sex with him. He’d been desperately wanting her, though. She was his girlfriend. They may have been engaged to marry -- and were, in fact, to be married within the next day -- but he still considered her to be his girlfriend. He loved her. Being married wasn’t an obligation to him. It was something that he wanted to do for the sake of their daughter.

“She’s getting so big,” he murmured, and he slipped his hands under her top. His fingers caressed her skin, which had already begun to soften due to their baby who was on the way. Paul couldn’t wait until the little life inside of her was big enough to kick. He settled his hand on her abdomen. “Our Heather. I’m afraid that I’ll wake up one day and she won’t be our little girl anymore. What if she doesn’t want me around?” 

“I don’t think that you have to worry about that,” Linda assured him. “Heather adores you. You’re her dad. Tomorrow, it’ll be official. You won’t have to worry anymore.”

“I can hardly wait,” he assured her. “You’ll be my missus.” 

Linda smiled at him. “Yeah, I’ll be Mrs. McCartney.” 

He kissed her. “You don’t want to stick with Eastman?” He traced a heart on her tummy as he spoke, more than a little turned on by the entire conversation. She shook her head. “Not even for your photography?” 

“Why would I want that?” She asked him. “I’m marrying you, aren’t I?” 

“I just want you to be happy.” He inched his hand up from her abdomen to her breast. “What’d ye have in mind for the loo?” 

“God, Paul, I’m so horny all of a sudden,” Linda admitted. Paul had figured that out from the reaction she’d given him to tweaking her nipple, but he gave her a lazy grin nonetheless, sure that his erection had to be evident to her from how she was sat. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” 

“Our child?” He offered it up as a suggestion, not expecting Linda to nod. “You’re...you’re not joking?” 

“It’s probably my hormones. They’re all out of control because of the baby.” Linda’s cheeks were coloured a faint pink. “I’m sorry, if that makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” he assured her. “Cor, I think that it’s brilliant. The little butterfly does that to ye?” 

“When she’s not making me feel knackered, or refusing to eat foods that I’ve eaten my whole life, or making me sick all over everything. Yeah, the butterfly does.”

“That’s bloody brilliant,” he whispered. His tone was one of awe. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, honest, Lin. You’re growing our baby.” He kissed her. “Nothing that’s happening makes me feel uncomfortable. At least, not related to the baby.” 

“You’re still upset about the fillings,” she surmised. He nodded. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. I want to take your mind off it for a moment, at least. Can I?”

He nodded, and she slipped off his lap. He pulled himself to a stand, and caught a glimpse of himself in the fish tanks. Thank god Siobhan had persuaded Heather to go along with her, because he was certain that she’d have noticed his erection, and called attention to it. Heather was curious, and Paul didn’t mind it. He didn’t think that Dr. Fitzpatrick’s office was an appropriate venue for questions like that. 

“What’d you have in mind, Mama?” 

Linda seemed quite pleased by the state he was in. She licked her lips. “I reckon that I’d ought to sort that out. Can’t have the dentist noticing how hot you are for me, can we, Papa?” 

“No, I mustn’t let on to the fact that there’s been  _ anything  _ pleasurable about me dentist appointment, Mama. He’d expect me to be thrilled to be there whenever the mood struck him.” Paul took her by the hand, and he led the way towards the washroom. There were two, and the good doctor had informed Paul that they’d were the new “family-style” washrooms, designed with the parent in mind. Paul assumed that he’d intended for Paul to interpret that as suitable for a mum to take her entire brood into the bog at the same time, but he and Linda were a family, and they could use the facilities for their own purposes. 

“That can’t be very comfortable,” she cooed. “But I’m rather impressed. Do I really do that for you?”

“All the time.”

Thanks to Linda’s earlier efforts, his jeans were already unbuttoned. She deftly unzipped them, and tugged them down to his knees. His briefs followed in quick succession. Without the constraints of the fabric, his erection sprang to life. 

“Mmm, someone’s keen,” Linda purred. “I reckon you’ve been good enough for me to get you off.” 

Paul gripped the basin of the sink, while he watched as Linda lowered herself to her knees. Her hair, the colour of cornsilk, was splayed over her shoulders, and he ached to touch it. Fuck, he wanted to have his way with her. It was truly a shame that they were at the dentist. He preferred not to associate sex with Dr. Fitzpatrick. 

“I’m always keen, Lin,” he managed to assure her. “Always. You don’t have to worry about that.” 

He felt her run her tongue down the length of his shaft, and he let out a moan. 

Linda tisked. “You’ve got to try to be quiet, y’know. I’d hate for the dentist to hear you and think you were in pain.” 

She returned to her ministrations. Paul groaned. “Sod the bloody dentist. What do I care? Let him talk.” 

Much to his disappointment, Linda pulled away from him. “What about Heather?” 

“What about Hettie?” He gave her a smile at the thought of their little girl, who was growing up right under their eyes. “She’s so brilliant, Mama. I can’t believe how big she’s getting.”

“I know,” she agreed. “I just don’t want her to hear you moaning in here and think that you’re in some sort of horrible pain, and come in to investigate, you know? Is that what you want to be the talk of our wedding?” She gave him a knowing look. “Plus, you know, it’s kind of hot, when you have to be quiet. I like it.” 

“Fuck, Lin. I’ll do it. I don’t want her walking in on us.” He reached out and stroked her hair with his free hand. “You like it, eh?” 

Linda giggled. “Mhm.” 

It had been a while since Linda had felt up to pleasuring Paul, and he wasn’t able to last as long as he’d wanted to. A quick glance at his watch told him that he could thrill the good doctor by managing to be on time for his appointment, a rarity indeed when it came to Paul. He put himself back to rights, though he left the button of his trousers undone, and he offered his hand to his soon-to-be-bride. 

Once Linda was standing, he pulled her towards him so he could give her a hug. “You’re brilliant,” he whispered. His hand settled on her middle. “I’m sorry that I can’t return the favour. I will after the bath.” 

“You don’t have to apologise,” she assured him. “Are you feeling better?” 

Paul sighed. “I’ll go and get it over with. For Heather’s sake.” He kissed her again. 

“That’s all I ask for,” Linda promised. “Heather’s already had a traumatising experience with the dentist Paul. Since Siobhan and Dr. Fitzpatrick are reasonable people, I would appreciate if you didn’t cause her to become frightened of them as well. I know that you don’t mean to be, but can you try?” 

Paul heaved a heavy sigh. He scuffed one of his trainers against the carpeting of the surgery. He really didn’t want to pretend that he was fine with a trip to the dentist. But he didn’t want to scare Heather. She was his daughter. And she didn’t even seem to be having too horrible a time. She’d gotten on with Siobhan. Paul didn’t mind that. 

The examination room loomed in front of him, and he held on tightly to Linda’s hand. Sure, he could hear the sounds of Heather laughing, but what did that even mean anymore? It was still the dental surgery. 

He couldn’t leave Heather in there alone. Even if she had Penny. He knew logically that neither Siobhan or Dr. Fitzpatrick would hurt her, but there was nothing about where they were that made him feel logical. 

So, he bravely headed in the direction of the ajar door. He dragged Linda along with him. 

Heather had sat herself on the dreaded examination chair, Penny propped up beside her, and she held the mirror that Siobhan had promised she could have in her hand. In the corner of his eye, he could see that Dr. Fitzpatrick was readying the tray of tools, and what he assumed was the mechanism for the gas and air. He drew in a deep breath and did his best to centre his focus on his little girl. 

“Daddy!” Heather chirped, and she waved frantically at him. “I did such a good job getting my tiger teeth picture that I got to test out the chair for you.” 

“Did you now?” Paul asked her. He forced himself to enter the room. “That’s brilliant, duck.” 

“Uh-huh, Siobhan told her dad what a good job I did. He said that I set a good example. For who?” 

Paul shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, duck. That’s brilliant, though. You’ve been well behaved. Maybe we’ll get a takeaway on our way home.” 

Paul wanted to promise Heather an ice cream. He didn’t want Dr. Fitzpatrick to start lecturing him on his junk food intake again, though, so he didn’t. 

“Okay,” she agreed. She scrambled off the chair and careened into his legs. He was unable to move due to the strength of her hug. “Siobhan said that if it was okay with you, she could do my cleaning. I want her to.” 

“Whatever you want, Hettie,” he mumbled. “If that’s what you want. I trust her.” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick cleared his throat. “Siobhan is going to handle your x-rays today, Paul,” he informed him. “I’ll do the fillings for your teeth, but she’s going to have to assist me. If you cooperate, she can examine your teeth at your cleaning.” The dentist gave him a pointed look. “Siobhan’s been training to help patients who have a tough time at the dentist.” 

“I know,” he told him. “She told me. And she helped the last time I was here. I remember.”   
  


“Yes,” Dr. Fitzpatrick said. He nodded in agreement. He sighed. “I hope that the gas and air prevents...incidents. Poor Marjorie. You almost bit her.” 

Paul furrowed his brow. “Oh, is that what happened? I didn’t mean to. Honest. I thought that Brian had sent her flowers. John’d given me a tablet before the appointment. He’d told me he’d gotten it from his dentist. I thought it would help. I don’t remember the appointment at all, to tell you the truth. The tablet made me feel bloody awful. I don’t know why you’d prescribe drugs like that.” 

“Drugs like what?” Dr. Fitzpatrick asked. “Your sedatives?” 

“Well, I don’t know! I thought it was a sedative that his dentist had given to him, but it was like I was bloody tripping! I wasn’t in the dental surgery at all. I was seeing sounds and hearing colours.” Paul described the effects of the tablet that John had given him with increasing horror. He hadn’t realised that John had slipped him a tab of acid and sent him off -- unsupervised -- to the dental surgery! “Sedatives don’t do that, do they?” 

“No, they’re meant to calm you down,” the dentist told him. “Not make you behave in an unhinged manner like you’ve taken acid!”

“Is it possible--”

“I warned John and George about that dentist,” Dr. Fitzpatrick groused. “I told them that he was one incident away from getting struck of the Registrar. They treated my warnings like they were jokes.” 

“Daddy?” Heather tugged on his pant leg. “What was seeing sounds like?” 

“It was bloody horrible,” he told her. “I don’t recommend it. Anyways, I’m sorry.” He directed the comment towards the dentist. “I didn’t -- I wouldn’t have taken it had I known.” 

“I know that you wouldn’t have,” he said. “Let’s not dwell on it further.” 

Paul drew in a deep breath. “You’re not going to yell at me?” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick sighed. “For what? You were accidentally dosed with LSD. That isn’t your fault.” 

“You have to get your tiger teeth picture taken,” Heather insisted. “Do you want to bring Penny?”

Paul didn’t want to get the x-ray done. He wanted to go to the Priory and pummel John. However, despite his claims to the contrary, his mouth did hurt. Heather was sweet to offer him Penny. 

“Yeah, I’ll take Penny,” he told her. He squatted down so that he was eye level with her. “Will ye be a good girl and make sure Mummy and Butterfly are okay? Just while I’m getting me tiger teeth picture taken?”

Heather nodded. “I’ll make Mummy sit down,” she told him. She handed him Penny, and grabbed hold of Linda’s hand. “Come on, Mummy. We should sit.” 

“It won’t be that bad,” Siobhan assured him. “It’s only an x-ray. You’ve had them done before.” 

“I don’t get it,” he admitted, as he followed her to the room where his x-ray would be performed. “Why’d you become a hygienist? I thought you’d have been fed up with it all after your father made you get those horrid wires and have those extractions done.” He swiped at his mouth with his hand. “I can’t help being scared, y’know.”   
  


“No one blames you for being scared,” she said. “I’m not evil because I work for the dentist. He’s my dad, you know.” 

“I know.” Paul reluctantly climbed into the chair. “I just want to get this over with. Stupid bloody filling. We’re to get married tomorrow. That’s a scoop for ye. Ye can’t tell anyone because of that bloody confidentiality.” 

“Heather seems quite fond of you.” 

He shrugged. “Only because I haven’t managed to fuck it up yet. She’s brilliant, though. I love her to pieces. Did she do all right with you?” He glanced over at Siobhan. She had a torture device that Paul had never seen before in her hands. It looked like a vest of some sort. “What’s that?”

“A lead vest,” she told him. “They’re perfectly safe...Dad’s using them on all of the patients. It will protect the baby.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Linda’s going to have an x-ray done as well,” she told him. Paul let out a groan. “No, come on. It’s safe. I promise. We’ve been using it since February. There’ve been patients who’ve brought in their babies.”

“Have there been?” Paul had to admit he was sort of jealous. “Have they let you cuddle them?” He took his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it idly. “I don’t want Linda or the baby to get hurt,” he told her. “Are you sure that it’ll be all right?” He desperately needed a smoke. If only Linda hadn’t taken his pack from him. 

“Yeah, of course they have.” Siobhan placed the vest over him as she spoke. “They’re not going to get hurt, Paul. I promise.” 

He drew in a deep breath. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I reckon I could bring the sprog in to see ye when it’s born,” he mused. “Won’t be until the summer. Would ye like that?” 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you getting your first wobbly tooth?” Dr. Fitzpatrick asked, getting the entire question out before Paul could stop him. Heather stiffened. “Do you want to show me?” 
> 
> “No!” Heather roared, doing a rather impressive impression of a tiger. And not a cub, either. “I won’t show you. I won’t show anyone because I want it to go away! It isn’t fair. I don’t want to have wobbly teeth. I don’t want my mouth to hurt like Daddy’s. I told them that and they don’t care at all. They keep talking about how exciting it is! You can’t make them go away either!” She scowled, and she sat up on Paul’s lap. “What’s the point of showing anyone my stupid teeth? What I want can’t happen.” 
> 
> “Your mouth is hurting you?” Paul asked her softly. Heather nodded. The tears were falling down her cheeks again, and he wiped them away with the pads of his thumb. “Aw, duck, I don’t think that you’ve got the same issues as me. I think you’re probably getting a new tooth.” 

Paul watched as Siobhan’s face brightened, and her eyes lit up. It almost seemed like she was the same person she had been prior to her utter betrayal of working at the dental surgery, but he wasn’t certain. How could he be? Siobhan had hated the dentist even more than he had, he’d been sure of it. Now she was one of them. 

“I want to meet the baby, Paul,” Siobhan told him. “But, only if you feel comfortable with it. I know that you don’t really like me now that I’m a dental hygienist. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me to meet her.” 

Paul felt rather guilty as Siobhan’s comment sunk in. He was certain that he didn’t hate her. He was just confused about why someone who he’d thought valued him and appreciated him (and who had been terrorised by her classmates as a result of the dreaded dentist) had bothered to study the torture arts in the first place. It didn’t make sense to him. 

“It might be a boy,” he settled on. He knew it was a coward’s response. “And, Siobhan, I don’t have a problem with you, honest. I just don’t understand why you’d want to work in a place that made you so miserable. I don’t care if you meet the baby. I’ll bring it in when it’s born. Even if I don’t have an appointment scheduled.” 

Siobhan raised a brow. “You don’t have to do that, Paul.” 

“No, I will,” he promised. “Heather’ll be keen to show her sister or brother off. I know that.” 

She smiled. “You’re quite fond of Heather, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, y’know, she’s brilliant,” he gushed, a smile coming to his face in spite of the place they were. “She’s my daughter, not quite officially yet, y’know, but we’re going to put the papers in tomorrow. After I marry her mum.” Paul couldn’t wait to marry Linda. He loved her so much. “That’s a technicality.” It was important that Siobhan know how much he adored Heather. “She’s mine, regardless.” He sighed. “Did she really do okay? When we left her with you?” 

“She was fine, Paul. She’s a sweet kid.” 

“She did all right with the x-ray?” Paul was dreading the procedure. “Did she?” 

“Of course she did.” Siobhan seemed sincere. “You’ll do okay, too,” she added. She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I promise. You’ll be okay.” 

Paul drew in a deep breath. “It’s really faster than the old one?” 

“Yeah. I promise. Less than a minute. You can always close your eyes. It might distract you.” 

Paul admitted defeat. It was easier to just go along with the dreaded x-ray than pitch a fit. He even closed his eyes. Not that he had much faith in Siobhan’s beliefs. He believed that she meant it, and that it was a technique that could work on others, but he was terrified of the dentist. What good would closing his eyes do? Still. If it didn’t work, he could just tell her. 

Paul allowed her to put the x-ray in his mouth with minimal complaint. He didn’t want to be seen as a less compliant patient than Heather! He doubted that Linda would ever let him hear the end of it if he had. He barely even gagged, and he shot a thumbs up in her direction. 

The door closed behind Siobhan, and what felt like an eternity commenced. It was only the fact that his five year old had sat for her x-rays without complaint that kept him in the chair. He scrunched his eyes shut. 

Paul felt rather guilty for an incident that had occurred soon after he’d brought Heather and Linda home with him. The dentist had called ‘round the office looking for him, and he had told Peter Brown to make up an excuse for his continued absence. He had never expected that Peter would have decided to tell him that he’d gone to bloody Antarctica to study the penguins. He’d assumed that Peter would have had the sense to say that he was still in the States. 

With the problem of the dentist out of the way, Paul had decided to skive off work and bring Heather and Martha to the park with him. Heather had begun doting on the sheepdog from the moment she’d laid eyes on her, and he’d figured that the park was large enough that they could avoid any encounters with fans. People normally solely paid attention to Martha at the park, anyways. 

When he’d spotted Siobhan in the distance, he’d thought to bring Heather over to meet her, but he’d made the mistake of telling Heather that Siobhan was his dentist’s daughter. Paul’s issues with Dr. Fitzpatrick were largely of his own doing, but the dentist that had examined Heather at Dalton had been legitimately traumatising to her. The mere mention of the word had sent her into a tailspin. Paul had known that Siobhan had spotted them, and ignoring her went against all his basic instincts, but he’d  _ had _ to be rude to her. Heather was too upset. She came first. Always. 

The door to the room reopened, and Paul cracked open his eyes. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Siobhan’s tone was concerned. Paul felt he didn’t deserve any of it. She leaned over and took out the packing and the x-rays. “I’ll put these in the developer. You can go into the examination room.”

“Siobhan, wait!” Paul insisted. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“I have to apologise to you,” he whispered, his tone rather hoarse. “For that day we saw each other at the park.”

“When you deliberately ignored me?” There was an edge to Siobhan’s tone. He really couldn’t blame her. “I presumed it had something to do with my job.” 

“No, I had every intention of going up to you and introducing you to Heather,” Paul admitted. He sat up on the chair. Siobhan had taken the vest off him. “Honest, Siobhan, I did. The thing was that I was with Heather, and she asked how I knew ye. I should have lied to her. I just couldn’t think of any that were convincing. So I told her you were my dentist’s daughter.” He brought his hand to the side of his mouth. His bad tooth was really aching. “She was quite traumatised by what happened to her in New York. The dentist was cruel to her. It didn’t help matters when Linda’s father caught wind of it and gave her a rather long lecture. I didn’t realise quite how upset she’d been until that moment.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it was rude of me. I shouldn’t have done it. I just didn’t want her to be overwhelmed.” He shook his head. “I meant to apologise, but it got away from me.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He ran his hand through his hair. “A lot of stuff’s been going on,” he admitted. “There was some trouble producing the record, Heather’s been having a lot of trouble adjusting to living here in England…” He trailed off, scrubbing his beard with his hand. “I did mean to ring you up. I did.”

“I thought you were angry at me because I became a hygienist,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t become one because I wanted to become the enemy. I want to help people who have dental anxiety, Paul, and the kids.” 

Paul let out a sigh. He knew that his position on the dental surgery bordered on ridiculous. He knew that Linda wasn’t going to let his lackadaisical habits of only booking in at the dental surgery when he absolutely needed to continue, much to his annoyance. He didn’t see the big deal of not going. He was an adult. Going to the dentist should have been his choice. Not something forced upon him. 

“I’m not bloody anxious about the bloody dentist,” he insisted, lying through his teeth. “It’s just a bloody ordeal.” 

“Okay,” she allowed. “You know that no one would care if you  _ were _ anxious about the dentist. Plenty of people are, it’s normal.” 

“It’s embarrassing,” he corrected. “Every time I come in there’s more criticism of me, of my mouth, it’s like I can’t do anything right. Your father hates me!” 

“No, he doesn’t. Why would he hate you?” Paul could hear the confusion in Siobhan’s tone. “After everything that you did to try to make me feel better?” Paul had wanted to do those things because Siobhan had been upset, not to try to curry favour with the dentist. “Dad doesn’t hate you, Paul. When he lectures you, it’s out of concern. Not out of hatred.” 

“Yeah? Well, I hate criticism, Siobhan. Surely by now you’ve realised that. It makes me feel terrible. That I can’t do anything right.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“What isn’t?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Siobhan pointed out. 

“Only because Linda wouldn’t let me get out of it,” Paul readily admitted. “She told me that she understood that I have…I guess she thinks that I have dental anxiety.” He shrugged. “I think I’m just being a pansy, but, whatever. If it suits her to think of me like that…” He rubbed the side of his mouth. “She said that even though I’ve got dental anxiety, I ought to not avoid the dentist anymore. I’ve got to set a good example for our daughter.” Despite himself, Paul smiled when he made mention of Heather. “I whinged about it at first, but, I realised that she was right. What type of example am I setting for her when I force her to go to appointments for her teeth and don’t go myself? I’m not setting a good one.” 

“I don’t think that she’s wrong,” Siobhan agreed. “The studies are showing that children model the dental habits that they see their parents model. So, it’s important to show Heather that you  _ can _ go to the dentist, even if you have to take sedatives, or have to utilise the gas and air for the cleanings in addition to the procedures. That way she’ll feel more confident in her abilities.” 

Paul managed to hold back his groan. He hated those bloody studies. They always managed to make  _ him _ look like the one who was in the wrong. Why wasn’t there a study that put Paul’s behaviours in a positive light, ever? He didn’t think that he was  _ that _ horrid a person.

Paul had managed to climb off the chair and put himself to rights. He even allowed Siobhan to take him by the arm and lead him in the direction of the dreaded examination room. He justified this by rationalising that he was allowing her the privilege of touching her favourite Beatle. The reality was that Paul couldn’t be trusted to return to the examination room on his own. Dr. Fitzpatrick had insisted that he be supervised. All he’d done was run off three times! He wasn’t a child. 

“Like I said,” he mumbled. “I’ll go for Heather. So she can be confident and stuff.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“I want to go with Daddy,” Heather whispered, once Paul had left the room with Siobhan to get his x-rays. “It’s not fair that he has to be on his own.” 

“You did it on your own,” Linda pointed out, as she made an attempt to sit in the chair beside the patient’s chair. Heather tugged her over to the recliner. “What? I’m not going to be examined today.” 

“Not by the dentist,” her daughter agreed. She clutched the mirror that Siobhan had given her in her dominant hand. “I want to look at your tiger teeth. With the big bright light and my new mirror.” 

Linda let out a noise of protest. She didn’t want her mouth scrutinised by Heather. The little girl was bound to notice the changes that pregnancy had brought to her teeth and her gums, and Linda sensed the potential of her being upset at the state they were in. Sure, Heather had given her tiger teeth a cursory glance while they were at home and deemed them satisfactory, but this was a dental surgery. The harsh light would reveal that all was not well in her mouth. If it didn’t, the mirror definitely would. 

“I don’t think so, Hettie,” she demurred. “I don’t want you to waste the mirror on me. Don’t you want to admire your daddy’s tiger teeth?” 

Heather shook her head. “Siobhan said that she’d give me a second mirror, so I could look at yours, too.” She sighed. “Daddy’s getting his tiger teeth photographed, anyways. He won’t want to when he’s done.” 

“He’d be a more willing participant than me,” Linda muttered, attempting to keep her comment under her breath. She didn’t want to upset Heather. Unfortunately, it seemed like she’d heard. “I meant--”

“Mummy!” Heather chastised. Her hand was on her hip. “That’s not very nice. I want to look at your tiger teeth!”

“I’m meant to be relaxing, Hettie,” she tried to tell her, as a last ditch effort to get her to abandon her quest. “Would looking at my tiger teeth be relaxing?” 

“Uh huh. You’d be able to lie down, in the big patient chair.” 

Linda sighed. “Fine.” It was easier to just go along with her. “I’ll lie down on the big patient chair, and you can look at my tiger teeth. But, only until Daddy comes out, okay?” 

“Why?” 

“Because Daddy has to lie down on the chair when he gets out, so that Dr. Fitzpatrick can fix his boo boos.” 

“Okay.” 

Linda climbed onto the chair and settled back. It was mainly nice to be off her feet. She was a bit knackered, what with the hard work that she did raising her and Paul’s nearly-six year old, in addition to carrying their unborn child. The trip to the dentist had been an unplanned addition to her day, and she was truthfully more than a bit worn out. She couldn’t have let Paul go on with a broken filling, however. No matter how much he’d claimed that he could handle it. It was a ridiculous stance to take. He could afford the private dentist, so he needed to get his tooth fixed, whether he wanted to or not. 

Linda didn’t think there was anything wrong with the dental surgery itself. She rather liked the tanks of fish that had been in the reception area, and she had found both Siobhan and Dr. Fitzpatrick to be pleasant individuals. Paul had allowed himself to admit that he found them to be pleasant too, as long as he was encountering them nowhere near anything related to the word teeth. 

Speaking of Dr. Fitzpatrick, the dentist had finished setting up the trays of tools for Paul, and was silently observing her and Heather. Linda didn’t really mind, but she feared that Heather might. Heather admiring her tiger teeth it was. 

“Are you comfy, Mummy?” Heather asked her, as she peered at her from the foot of the chair. “What happened to your knees? Why are they red?”

Linda blushed. “What are you talking about?” 

“They’re red,” she insisted. “Is that because of the baby?” 

“Yes,” she agreed, rather hastily. “That’s because of the baby. Pregnancy gives me all sorts of confusing symptoms. It’s normal, I promise. How do you want to examine my tiger teeth? Do you want to be by my side, or do you want to cuddle with me at the same time?” 

“Cuddle.” 

Heather climbed on top of the chair, taking great care not to jostle her too much, and Linda gave her a bright smile. “I love cuddling with you, you know that, right?” 

“Me too, Mummy,” she chirped. “I think Butterfly’s showing,” she added, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Your tummy feels different.” 

“Does it?” Linda stroked Heather’s hair. She knew that she’d begun to show. She thought Heather’s attention was downright adorable. “That would be your brother or sister.” 

Heather patted her tummy. “Hi little Butterfly. I’m going to examine Mummy’s tiger teeth.” She glanced up at Linda. “That’s the word, right?” 

“What word?” 

“Examine? Does that mean to look at?” 

Linda nodded. “Yes, you’re using it correctly.” Heather beamed at her. “You’re my smart girl.” 

Linda couldn’t wait until she’d finally gotten her teeth professionally cleaned. Even though she was loath to admit it to Paul, the truth was that she’d had some dental issues while she was pregnant with Heather. She suspected that they were rearing up again. She just hoped that Heather wouldn’t notice her swollen gums. She didn’t want her to worry. 

“Are you sure that you want to examine me?” Linda asked her. 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh,” she chirped. “Siobhan said that I could have a mirror to look at your tiger teeth and one to look at Daddy’s. I don’t know if he’ll want me to look at his tiger teeth again.”

“I’m sure that he will,” she whispered. Paul would move heaven and earth for Heather, and she knew it. She hoped that Heather would learn that soon enough. “Your dad loves you.” 

“I love him, too.” Heather’s gaze locked on her mouth. “Open up, Mummy. I have to get a good look at your tiger teeth before Daddy comes back.” 

Linda wanted to protest, but didn’t want to ruin Heather tolerating the dental surgery. The thought that her refusal to open her mouth could get back to Paul and cause him to not comply also crossed her mind. She didn’t want that to happen. 

“Okay,” she conceded. “Go ahead.” Having given Heather permission, Linda opened her mouth. “Just -- be gentle, Hettie.” 

“I’m  _ always _ gentle,” Heather insisted. She brandished the mirror in her hand. “I--Mummy, your tiger gums. Why are they redder than Daddy’s were when I looked at his tiger teeth at home?”

Linda shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Heather, I--” Linda’s eyes lit up when she saw that Paul was back in the examination room, though she sensed he was doing his best to appear invisible. Linda didn’t have the energy to deal with Heather poking at her teeth while Paul knew perfectly that Dr. F could see him. She met his gaze, silently willing him to come over and take their child. 

“I think it’s Mummy’s turn to get her tiger teeth photographed,” Paul said in a rather cheery tone. It was all the more impressive that it was fake. “Surely you’d be okay with Siobhan getting us all sorted there, right, Dr. F?” 

Heather made a noise of protest. “Daddy! I’m looking at Mummy’s tiger teeth! I didn’t even get to use the mirror!”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Dr. Fitzpatrick interjected. “You can give your father a once over while Siobhan x-rays your mother.” 

Heather scowled. “I  _ wanted _ to look at Mummy--”

“Heather Louise,” Linda hissed, in a warning tone. “The dentist and Siobhan had to make a special appointment for your father. I don’t want to keep them here any longer than necessary.” 

“Siobhan  _ said _ I could look at your tiger teeth!” Heather retorted. “Now you’re saying that I can’t? That’s not fair, Mum. I--”

Paul had crossed the room and scooped Heather up and into his arms. “Now, duck, I think that Siobhan said that you could do that because she thought I’d take a while having me x-rays done. Mummy’s just having a rough time, y’know?” 

“With her tiger teeth?” Heather asked him. Linda sighed. “Mummy?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” she told Heather. She glared at Paul. Didn’t it figure that his fear of the dentist only extended to him? “It’s just because of the pregnancy, Heather. I’m fine.” 

“But her tiger gums are redder than yours,” Heather informed Paul. “You have all those boo boos!”

“Two boo boos, Hettie,” he said hastily. “I’ve only got two that Dr. F. needs to look at.” 

Linda climbed off the chair. She felt rather guilty about how she had reacted to Heather wanting to clean her tiger teeth. All Heather had wanted to do was explore her mouth with her mirror, and she’d treated her terribly. She hadn’t meant to. 

“I’m sorry,” she told Heather, whose only response was to bury her face against Paul’s shirt. “Honest, Heather...I am.” 

“Leave me alone,” Heather mumbled. “You wouldn’t let me look at your teeth!”

“Because, I’m in pain!” Linda exclaimed. “I’m still sorry.” 

Heather refused to justify her mother with a response. Linda gave Paul a desperate look. 

“It’s really that bad?” Paul asked her, his eyes filled with concern. “Lin?” 

“Not all the time,” she answered. “Just...right now. But I don’t want you to worry, Paul. I told you, it’s nothing. It’s normal.” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick cleared his throat. “I can give you a quick once over,” he told her. He adjusted his glasses. “It’s really no trouble at all. Paul will need to be monitored because of the gas and air, so I don’t mind filling the time with something productive. Of course, you’d still have your normal cleaning, but I’d be able to write you out a prescription.” 

Linda sighed. She didn’t want to be a burden. “Only if it isn’t too much trouble.” 

“Why don’t ye go with Siobhan?” Paul suggested. “She can sort ye out with the x-ray, at least. Heather and I will be fine. I’ve got her. She can look at my tiger teeth.” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t _ want _ to.” 

“Well, we don’t have to,” he whispered. “We can just lay on the chair, if that’ll make you feel better. Whatever you want.” 

Linda felt like she was the worst mother. Hadn’t she promised to always put Heather first? Why couldn’t she have just gone along with what Heather had wanted? It would have been better than the situation they’d found themselves in. Heather was angry with her. She’d probably ruined any excitement that Heather would have ever found at the dentist. Now Paul had to deal with an upset child on top of the pain he was feeling from his cavities. 

“I’m sorry,” she told Siobhan, once they’d left the room and headed in the direction of the x-ray machine. “Heather’s going to hate the dentist again, she’s going to hate me, I’ve left her alone with Paul while his mouth is hurting--”

“I don’t think that Paul minds,” Siobhan assured her. “She’s his daughter. He just wants you to feel better.” 

She sighed. “It’s nothing. I’m sure that it’s just because of the pregnancy.” 

“It’s not nothing if you’re hurting,” she pointed out. “You sound like Paul. He seems to think that if he insists nothing is wrong whatever is wrong with him will be rendered unnoticeable. What’s the matter?” 

Linda sighed. She ran her hand through her hair. “It was just my gums at first,” she told her. “I was used to that when I was pregnant with Heather. They bled pretty much constantly.” She let out a sigh. “I didn’t have anyone to help me...so I had to make due. I didn’t have a dentist who was willing to write prescriptions for me.” She shook her head. “Paul noticed and he wanted me to get it checked out, even though I insisted that it was fine. He cares so much about me and the baby.” 

“And Heather. He really loves her, and cares about her.”

“I know he does.” Linda knew that she was lucky to have Paul, and that Heather was lucky to have him as well. “He adores her. He has since he first found out about her.” She smiled softly at the memory. “He’s done quite well as her father,” she added. “I think it comes naturally to him.” 

“They’ll be fine,” Siobhan promised. “It’s more than just the gums, isn’t it?”

Linda drew in a deep breath. “I think so. I think I have a cavity.” 

“Well, we’ll have a look at the x-ray,” she told her. “If you have a cavity, I’m sure that Dad will be able to fill it for you. He’ll want to keep an eye on Paul after his fillings are done, anyways.” 

Linda had to admit that she felt some trepidation as she got into the chair, not that she wanted to let on. She wasn’t scared of the dentist, but rather fearful of what the dentist might find that the students at Columbia had missed. There was also the concern she felt for her unborn child. Was getting an x-ray even safe? Linda wasn’t sure. She ghosted her hand across her abdomen. Heather had been right: Butterfly was showing. Not much, but enough.

“Do you know if this is safe for the baby?” Linda asked her. “The x-ray? They never did one when I was pregnant with Heather.” 

Siobhan nodded. Linda breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t want to do this,” she admitted. “I’ve never had a cavity before.”

“You might  _ not _ have a cavity, though,” Siobhan pointed out. “Your teeth could just be generally sensitive because of the pregnancy. Isn’t it best to know for sure?” 

Linda gave a reluctant nod. What type of example would she set for Heather and Paul if she didn’t go along with what the hygienist wanted? A terrible one, that’s all. She was already the worst mother. She didn’t want to be a negative influence on them in addition. 

“Heather’s upset with me,” Linda whispered. She cringed at the volume of Heather’s tone. She didn’t think that she’d been that horrible to her, but it appeared that Heather was quite angry. Her voice -- and that of Paul’s -- could be faintly heard from the examination room. “I didn’t mean to make her angry. I should have just let her look at my teeth.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Paul had realised rather belatedly that there was a flaw in his plan to soothe Heather. Heather had clearly needed cuddles, and he didn’t mind giving them to her, but in the process of assuring her that they could lay down and cuddle together, he had found himself in the dental examination chair. Paul hated the chair. Dr. Fitzpatrick used it as a torture device for him. He was surprised that he wasn’t tied down whenever the doctor forced him in there. And now he’d managed to sit on it of his own free will? He was losing his touch. 

Heather’s needs came before his, however, and it was clear to him that she needed to be held. It was just unfortunate that the chair was his best solution. 

“Mummy will be okay,” he whispered softly, as Heather glanced up at him. There were tears in her eyes. “She’s not having an easy time with her teeth, duckie, that’s all.” 

“Her tiger teeth are hurting her,” Heather wailed. “They’re being mean! Mummy’s not like you. She went to the dentist! She had to wait all day to go to the clinic.” 

“What’re you talking about?” Paul asked her. “What clinic?” 

“She couldn’t afford a real dentist,” she explained, “so she went to the clinic in Columbia.” 

“Colombia?” Paul gaped. “What the bloody hell was she doing all the way there? Your mum had to leave the country to get dental work?” 

He heard Dr. Fitzpatrick let out a sigh. “Paul, if I may interject?” 

“I’d love to know why my wife had to go to South bloody America to have her teeth cleaned. Even if I have to hear it from you.” 

“I think that Mrs. McCartney was taking advantage of a programme that dental schools in the States have put together. An American colleague was telling me about it. It seems that the cost of a trip to the dental surgery can be cost prohibitive, so they’ve found a way to educate the people who are learning the art of dentistry as well as allowing patients an opportunity to get cleanings and other procedures done, either for free, or at cost.” 

Paul furrowed his brow. “Why would people want to do that? Wouldn’t they be glad to have an excuse not to go to the dentist? No offence.” 

“Amazingly enough, there are people who pride themselves on attending their appointments, Paul.” 

“Right,” he scowled. “Like Ringo and Mike.” He didn’t understand them sometimes. 

“Mummy went because she wanted to make sure that her tiger teeth were healthy,” Heather reported. “I don’t get why her tiger gums look like that. They never did before.” 

“That’s because of the pregnancy,” Dr. Fitzpatrick told her. “Unfortunately, some of the hormonal changes that your mum is going through to make the baby feel welcomed have negative effects on her teeth. So her gums may swell more and she has an increased risk of cavities.” 

Heather looked up at Paul. “What’s a cavity?” 

“A boo boo, duck,” he said. “That’s what you call them. The dentists, they’ve got a different name for ‘em.” 

  
Heather frowned. “Butterfly is hurting Mummy?” 

“Not on purpose, I don’t think,” Paul assured her. “I think it’s just something that happens, y’know, like Mummy being sick earlier on.” He sighed. “I still don’t understand why she had to travel so far…” 

“Columbia is a university. It’s a rather elite one, along the lines of Cambridge. It’s in New York.” 

“That’s where we’re from,” Heather whispered. She snuggled closer to him. He tightened his arms around her. “Daddy? Can we go see the tigers?” 

“What tigers?” Paul asked her. “The ones in New York? I reckon we could when we go visit Mummy’s family after the holiday.” 

She shook her head. “I want to visit the ones that Siobhan said live here, at the London Zoo. She said they’ve got so many of them.” 

“Yeah, duck. We can go to the London Zoo.” Paul had never been to the London Zoo. It seemed like a good chance for poor Beatle Paul to have gotten mobbed by a gaggle of girls during the height of Beatlemania, and, in truth, the thought of going to a zoo by himself was nowhere on his list. He’d go for Heather. “Whenever you want. You want to go tomorrow?” 

She giggled. “Da! Don’t be silly. You know what we’re doing tomorrow.”

Paul tickled her sides, pleased when she let out a peal of laughter. He loved Heather so much. He liked when she was happy. 

“You ought to remind me.” He gave her a playful wink. “We can’t go see the tigers after the wedding?” 

Heather shook her head. “No,” she insisted. “We’ve got to go meet baby Brenna. You promised. Uncle Mike said I’d get to hold her.” 

“Cor, I did promise that, didn’t I?” He grinned at her. “Did Uncle Mike?”

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, he said that I could if I wanted to. That he and Auntie Angela thought I was old enough to hold her on my own.” She flashed a smile. “Do you really think I am?” 

“Well, she’s their baby,” Paul reminded her. “I reckon you’d do all right. But I can sit with ye, if it’d suit you.”

Heather scrunched up her face in concentration. Paul suspected that he knew the answer. “I want you to,” she decided. “You’re my dad...I’ve never held a baby before. I hope that she likes me.” 

“I’m sure that she will,” he promised her. “You’re brilliant.” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love ye, too, duckie.” 

For a moment, Paul had forgotten that he and Heather weren’t alone. That was until Dr. Fitzpatrick spoke. 

“I was wondering how you’d managed to have a wedding without a soul knowing,” the doctor admitted. “I was impressed.” 

“What, because I called her my wife?” Paul shrugged his shoulders. “She’s my wife regardless of whether we’ve used our licence or not. I love her.” He turned his attention to Heather. “I love you and your mummy, don’t I?”

“So much,” Heather agreed. “I love you, too. So does Mummy, and the baby.” 

“Anyways, since you brought it up, I bloody well hope it doesn’t cause a scene,” he admitted. “I’m not exactly keen on being mobbed at the registry by a bunch of obnoxious fans...or the press.” He scowled at the thought of the fans. They were quite horrid. “You’re not going to go round telling everyone, are you?” 

“Patient confidentiality, Paul.” Paul didn’t entirely know what that meant. He just knew he didn’t want his personal information out there. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Paul sighed. “Are you sure that the machine is safe for Linda? I don’t want anything to happen to her or the baby.” 

“I’m sure,” he assured him. “The machine has been in use since January, as well as the leaded vest, and all of my patients who have been pregnant are either currently experiencing normal pregnancies, or they’ve had healthy babies. I wouldn’t have patients do something unsafe.” 

“Have you gotten to see the babies?” Heather asked, her tone full of curiosity. 

“Yes, patients bring them in to see me,” he said. “Maybe your brother or sister as well?” 

“I’ve already promised Siobhan,” Paul informed him. “So, yeah. You’ll get to meet the baby.”

“Can we show Butterfly the fish?” Heather asked him. “They’re so pretty, Da. I don’t know why you don’t like them.” He watched as she fumbled with her wobbly tooth, but he didn’t call attention to her. He knew Heather was upset that her tooth was loose. “I think that the baby will like them,” she said, her voice muffled by her fingers. “Can’t we show her?” 

“That’s up to Mummy.” 

“Are you getting your first wobbly tooth?” Dr. Fitzpatrick asked, getting the entire question out before Paul could stop him. Heather stiffened. “Do you want to show me?” 

“No!” Heather roared, doing a rather impressive impression of a tiger. And not a cub, either. “I won’t show you. I won’t show anyone because I want it to go away! It isn’t fair. I don’t want to have wobbly teeth. I don’t want my mouth to hurt like Daddy’s. I told them that and they don’t care at all. They keep talking about how exciting it is! You can’t make them go away either!” She scowled, and she sat up on Paul’s lap. “What’s the point of showing anyone my stupid teeth? What I want can’t happen.” 

“Your mouth is hurting you?” Paul asked her softly. Heather nodded. The tears were falling down her cheeks again, and he wiped them away with the pads of his thumb. “Aw, duck, I don’t think that you’ve got the same issues as me. I think you’re probably getting a new tooth.” 

“I don’t want a new tooth,” she whimpered. “I’d rather have boo boos. At least those can be fixed.” 

“What if I looked in ye mouth?” He offered. “I could use the mirror that Siobhan gave ye? Would you like that?” 

Heather drew in a shuddering breath. She gave him a nod. “If you want to.” 

“I do, duck,” he assured her. “I want to see what’s going on in your mouth, y’know? It’s important to me that you’ve got the best tiger teeth ever.” 

Heather swiped at her nose. “Even though I’m getting big?” 

“There’s been a lot of changes, hasn’t there?” He asked her idly. She nodded. “Some of them have been scary, yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” she agreed. “Moving here was scary.” 

“You were so brave,” he promised. “Mum and I are so proud.” He kissed her on her forehead. “Now we’re having a baby.” 

“I’m not upset about Butterfly,” Heather whispered. “I love it. Them.” 

“I know ye do,” he whispered. “So does Mummy, and the baby must. You’re a brilliant big sister.” 

“You really think that I’m a brilliant big sister?” Heather cast her gaze downward. “I’m not. I’m scared of everything. Even the dentist.”

“I’m scared of the dentist too, y’know,” Paul reminded her. “Does that mean you think I’m a bad dad?” 

“You’re not a bad daddy,” she whispered. “Why would you think that? Just because you’re scared of the dentist?” 

Paul shrugged. There were a lot of reasons that he could have considered himself to be a terrible father. The fear of the dentist was probably on the list, but not at the top. He sighed. 

“I dunno, really,” he admitted. “It’s just, y’know, I’m learning how to be a dad, just like you’re learning how to be a big sister. We’ve both got to learn new things, and do them, even if they’re scary.” 

Heather shuddered. “Like letting you look at my stupid tiger teeth?” 

“They’re not stupid,” Paul protested. “Why do you think they are?” 

“Look at them,” she whimpered. “They’re going to get all horrid when my wobbly tooth gets more friends. Everyone will laugh at me. How will Mummy be able to get any pictures of me?” 

“If someone makes fun of you for your wobbly teeth,” Paul told her, his tone even. “You ought to just ignore them. They’ll come round.”

“They’ve never come round,” she retorted. “Not even after you came to my stupid school and told them you were really my dad. Do you know what they did to me?” 

Paul shook his head. “What did they do?”

“I can’t tell you,” she whispered. “You’ll get angry. I was bad.” 

“What do you mean?” Paul asked her. “You’re not bad, duckie, and I’ve already told you that you’re not going back there. You telling me what they did doesn’t change that.” 

Paul knew that they weren’t alone in the dental surgery, but he really didn’t care. If Heather wanted to divulge one of the issues that had happened to her at that horrid primary school that he and Linda had made the error in judgement of enrolling Heather in...well, if she didn’t care that Dr. Fitzpatrick was there, neither did he. 

“The Headteacher lied to you,” she muttered, in a barely audible tone. “You took time off work to come in and tell them that I was your daughter and she told you that she’d make sure that things were sorted, right?” 

Paul nodded. He hadn’t minded going to the primary school to speak to the Headteacher. Heather had been inconsolable, and he hadn’t wanted her to be bullied over something that she wasn’t lying about. He was her father. Simple as that. It didn’t matter what their last names were. At least, it hadn’t mattered to Paul. Frankly, it was no one else’s concern. 

“Yeah, that’s what she told me,” he confirmed. “I didn’t mind leaving work for a bit to speak to her, Hettie. I promise. Is that what you’re upset about?” 

Heather frantically shook her head. “She caned me,” she whimpered. “It really hurt. No one had ever done that to me before.” 

Paul felt anger course through his veins, but he did his best to keep his tone modulated. There was no use in scaring Heather. “No one will do that to you again,” he promised. “I swear to you, Heather, no one will.” He drew in a deep breath. “What d’you say? Would you like a hug?” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Of course not,” he assured her. “You’re not the one that I’d be angry with. Come ‘ead.”

Heather snuggled close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m scared about my wobbly tooth,” she said after a moment. Paul was fantasising about the next encounter he and Linda had with that horrid woman that called herself a Headteacher, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Heather needed him to support her. “And my molars.”

He tousled his hair. “Listen, I know that you don’t like it, but it’s part of growing up. I know that you don’t like when Mum and I bring it up that you’ve got them, but, don’t ye understand? It’s exciting for me.” 

“What’s exciting for you?” Heather scowled as she asked the question. 

“Your wobbly teeth.” He cupped her chin in his hands. “I’ve missed so much, Hettie, and I hate it. I just...maybe get carried away about your wobbly teeth because I’m excited I get to experience it.” 

Heather’s gaze was downcast. “You’re really excited about my wobbly tooth?” 

“Yeah. I just -- I finally get to experience a milestone, y’know? That’s all I’ve wanted.” 

Much to his surprise, Heather handed him the mirror. “You can look at them,” she whispered. “If you really want to.” 

“Yeah.” He gave her a kiss. “I really want to.” 

Heather opened her mouth, and he carefully stuck the mirror inside. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was looking for. Paul had very little knowledge of teeth. He just wanted to see if he could cheer Heather up. He was pleased that she’d stopped crying. Clearly she was somewhat mollified that he wanted to see a milestone, even if it was something she considered horrid and dreadful like her teeth. 

“You’ve got such beautiful teeth, duckie,” he told her. “I don’t see a single boo boo.” He did, however, see the start of two teeth poking out from her gums on the side of her mouth that she’d said had hurt. “Ah, you’re getting some new teeth.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t want them,” she insisted. Her voice was muffled by the mirror. “They hurt!” She clamped her mouth shut. 

“I know,” he sighed. “Maybe the doctor can sort you out when you’ve got your appointment.” 

“There’s a product that you can buy at the chemist,” Dr. Fitzpatrick told him. “It’s a numbing gel. You can use it on Heather’s gums.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Dr. Fitzpatrick had lived through many things over the course of his life, from having grown up a Catholic in Protestant Northern Ireland, to having to adjust with his family to living in London, but there was nothing that he feared more than an appearance by Paul McCartney in his dental surgery. It wasn’t as if he personally had a problem with Paul. Far from it. In fact, he was secretly rather fond of his problematic patient. It was just that...well. Over the years, Paul had developed a bit of a reputation at the dental surgery. 

At best, the Beatle was fretful when he made a rare appearance at the clinic, typically months after he had ignored Dr. Fitzpatrick’s efforts to actually get him examined in what could have been a timely manner. He often refused to actually get into the chair without precious minutes spent cajoling him, and that was when he entered the examination room at all. 

At his worst, well, the realisation that Paul’s idiotic friend had slipped him a tablet of acid went a long way towards explaining Paul’s behaviour that day at the dentist. Dr. Fitzpatrick hadn’t seen hide nor hair of John or George since they had discovered one of the more unscrupulous dentists in London, who had been rather proud of his immortalisation in the Beatles’ song. Dr. F would have been quite mortified, were he him. 

Alas, this newfound knowledge had done nothing to erase the fact that Paul’s behaviour -- though apparently acid induced -- had made him rather unpopular with the hygienist who had been on duty that day. Even though Paul had apologised to poor Marjorie rather profusely, she had seemed distinctly unimpressed with the thought of staying late for the Beatle’s emergency dental appointment. 

Thank goodness for Siobhan. She had been more than willing to come into the surgery on her day off to assist him. 

“Mike seems quite fond of his niece,” he broached, pleased when Paul offered him a smile in response. It was clear to him that Siobhan was probably examining poor Linda’s teeth in the x-ray room, which accounted for their absence. He didn’t want to start the procedure without her there. “I think he likes being an uncle.” 

“D’you hear that, duck?” Paul cooed, and Heather nodded. Her impromptu examination had been ended, but her soreness had been alleviated with the application of a sample of the numbing gel. “Uncle Mike’s quite fond of you.” 

“I like him too,” young Heather whispered. “He’s nice to me.” 

“We’re going to see him tomorrow. At the wedding.” 

“And after,” she insisted. “You promised. We’d go visit.” 

“We will,” he assured her. “I know you want to meet your little cousin.” 

Thomas heard Heather let out a sigh. “Where’s Mummy? Is she okay?” 

“She’s just getting her tiger teethed photographed,” he heard Paul tell her. “I reckon Mummy’s giving Siobhan advice on how to take perfect photographs of tiger teeth. Mummy’s quite brilliant as a photographer, y’know? Siobhan probably wanted to ask her how she takes her pictures.” 

“Is Linda a photographer?” Thomas asked Paul. He’d never met Linda before that day. The last time he’d seen Paul, he’d been together with Jane. “What does she photograph?”

“Cor, she’s brilliant,” he gushed. “The best one I’ve ever known. What does she photograph? Bloody near everything. She took those pictures of the Stones on the yacht. You might’ve seen them?” He shrugged. “We met at the Sgt. Pepper launch party,” he added. “She was taking our pictures.” 

“Mummy said that she’s taking a break,” Heather chimed in. She didn’t look him in the eye, but at least she spoke. “I dunno why. Can’t she still take pictures while Butterfly is inside of her?” 

“I’ll talk to Mummy about that,” Paul told her. “I don’t disagree with you, but it’s her choice. She’s the one who’s not wanting to work. If she really doesn’t want to, she can take pictures for fun.” 

“When we get home, can we listen to the Mummy-Daddy record?” Heather asked. 

Thomas watched Paul’s brow furrow. “What one is that?” He asked her. “A Whiter Shade of Pale?” 

Heather giggled. “No, Da! The one that you had the party for. What did you call it?” 

“Oh, d’you mean Sgt. Pepper?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh. You still have it, right?” 

“Of course I do,” he assured her. Thomas watched him tug on his collar. “It’s in the pile. I’ll show you when we get home.” 

“The pile?” Heather echoed. “What’s that?” 

“Where I keep all me Beatles records,” Paul told her. “I don’t really have a use for them, so I keep them by me safe. That’s for all of me paypackets.” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick’s eyes widened as he processed Paul’s admission. While he supposed it was a step in the right direction that he was keeping his paypackets in the safe, Thomas found himself wondering why Paul appeared to have not heard of a bank. Of course, he knew the answer was Brian Epstein. Brian had taken the easy way out and not bothered to thoroughly explain things like fiscal responsibility to his clients, choosing instead to be the person who did things like schedule their appointments or pay their bills. Thomas didn’t enjoy speaking ill of the dead, but Paul was 26! He should have known better than to not have his money in the bank. 

It appeared that Paul’s daughter was also aggrieved by his confession. The young girl bore a displeased look. 

“You put the Mummy-Daddy record in a pile with all of your  _ other _ Beatles records?” She demanded. “Daddy! That’s important!”

“I didn’t realise that you cared so much,” Paul told her, his tone placating. “Look, if it matters to you, Heather, I’ll keep it separate from them. I don’t enjoy queuing up me old records, that’s all. I didn’t think that you even wanted to listen to it. Isn’t the picture that we have in the parlour enough?” 

Heather let out a breath. “The picture is important,” she admitted. “Mummy took it of all of you. I like it a lot. But I want to listen to the record, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “Please? Can we?” 

“Of course we can. We can do whatever you want. Maybe we can listen to it tonight, after we’re done at the surgery.” 

“Are you going to be okay? You’re not going to lose any tiger teeth, are you?” 

“I reckon I will be.” Paul shrugged. “I’ll try me best not to. Dr. F., he’ll do his best to sort me out, I promise. He always does.” 

Heather afforded the dentist a brief glance, before she returned her gaze to Paul. “You promise that he’s not mean like Grandpa Lee’s dentist? He hurt me.”

“I promise, duckie, he’s not going to hurt you. What happened in New York won’t happen again. I promise. I’ll be here with you the whole time, and ye can hold my hand. As hard as ye want to.” 

Thomas felt a bit like he was intruding upon a private moment. 

When Siobhan had told him that Paul had called and scheduled appointments for himself, his wife, and their daughter, Thomas had been in a state of disbelief. Paul pretended that they didn’t live in the same neighborhood, and did his best to not acknowledge that their dogs would play together in the park. This was the man who had had the nerve to have someone explain his absence as having gone to an uninhabited country. Dr. Fitzpatrick had been shocked to know that Paul had even known the number to the dental surgery. Once he had gotten over that miraculous event, the fact that Siobhan had told him Paul had mentioned a daughter had sunk in. 

Dr. Fitzpatrick had heard the rumours that Paul had fathered illegitimate children, of course, but he hadn’t paid them much mind. He didn’t want to bother himself with thinking too deeply on his patients’ sex lives, especially when they had nothing to do with his work at the dental surgery. He had assumed that they were mostly hogwash. To see Paul with an actual child...it was somewhat disconcerting. Not in a bad way, of course. He knew that Paul was good with children. He had been friendly and kind to all of Thomas’s children, in fact, in spite of what he felt about him, and the work he did. He just hadn’t expected him to be a father. 

Although, now that he thought about it, he was fairly certain that that was one of the reasons that he and Jane had broken up, in addition to his proclivity towards straying. Not that he’d mention what Mrs. Asher had told him at her last appointment. It was meant to be confidential, and it was more than a bit unkind. 

“How old is Heather?” 

“She’s five,” Paul told him. “She’ll be six in a few days, won’t you, darling?” 

Heather nodded. “On New Year’s Eve.” 

“I have a daughter a couple years older than you,” he told her. Heather eyed him shyly. “I can have my wife bring her to the dental surgery after you have your cleaning so the two of you can play while your father and mother have their appointments, if you’d like that?” 

“Is she nice?” Heather asked him. “I’ll play with her, but only if she’s nice.” 

“Yeah, she’s nice,” Paul assured her. “I’ve met her, y’know.”

“I just wanted to make sure--Mummy!” 

Linda had indeed entered the examination room. Thomas watched as Heather scrambled off her father’s lap in order to give her mother a hug. 

* * *

  
  
  


“Hi, sweetheart,” Mummy asked, in a much more pleasant tone than she’d had before. “Are you okay?” 

  
  


“Uh huh, yeah, I’m okay,” Heather nodded, and she buried her face against Mummy’s Butterfly belly, not caring that there were other people around to see her display of affection. She loved her mummy, and she loved her little Butterfly, so she didn’t care what other people thought. They’d gone missing. Heather was glad that they were back. 

“Mummy, are you and Butterfly okay?” Heather asked her, her tone quiet. She placed a careful hand against the slight swell on Mummy’s abdomen. “You were gone for a long time. I was worried.” 

“We’re fine, little tiger,” Mummy assured her. Heather felt her run her fingers through her hair. “Siobhan was just taking pictures of my tiger teeth, and she’s working on developing them now.” 

“I’m sorry that I made your tiger teeth hurt,” she whispered. Heather was devastated that she’d caused Mummy to feel distressed. “I really didn’t mean to.” 

“You didn’t make my teeth hurt.” Mummy curled a lock of her hair around her finger. “It’s the pregnancy. I’m having a lot of hormonal changes and some of them involve my teeth. Siobhan gave me a quick examination while we were in the x-ray room. It seems that my gums are swollen and I have a couple cavities.” 

Heather’s eyes widened. How could Mummy have cavities? She’d been so certain that Mummy had the same tiger teeth she’d always had. She wanted to peer inside Mummy’s mouth to make sure that Siobhan was correct, but she didn’t want to make her angry again. 

“Daddy looked at my tiger teeth,” she admitted to Mummy. She didn’t want to talk about what Daddy had found, but suspected the dreaded molars that he’d been so pleased with would be on her tiger tooth picture. “With the mirror.” 

“Did he? What did he see?” 

Heather shrugged. “He said I have two teeth coming in,” she whispered. “Dr. Fitzpatrick gave me something to put on my gums, but I just want them to go away.” 

“You know that’s not going to happen, sweetie.”

“I told her that I was excited, y’know,” Daddy said, from his position on the chair. “Having not experienced much of the milestones, y’know, I finally get to see one for myself.” 

Heather sighed heavily. “I know that, Da, you can be excited. I’m not.” 

“You were excited about the baby getting bigger,” Mummy pointed out. Heather nodded. “Well, what’s the difference? Can’t Daddy be excited for you getting bigger?” 

“I’ll be too big to play with Butterfly.” 

“No you won’t be,” Daddy said. “She’s your sister, or he’s your brother. Whatever it is, they’re not gonna care that you’ve got wobbly teeth or grown up teeth or your molars. I know that you hate ‘em, Het, but I promise. You’ll never be too big to play with Butterfly.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yeah,” he dropped his tone, so that it was like he was speaking only to her. “I promise. Of course I promise.” 

“Okay.” Heather found it was easier to just agree. “Do you have to get your tiger teeth fixed now?” 

Penny was on the chair that she was going to sit on with Mummy. She scooped the dog up and pressed her into Paul’s arms. 

“Are ye sure you don’t want to hold her?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh. I want your to hold her while Dr. Fitzpatrick fixes your teeth.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather nodded eagerly. She wanted to know who Brian was, and why he had left, but she was quite curious about what Siobhan’s tiger teeth examination would reveal for her daddy. She was also reminded of the question that she’d wanted to ask. She’d meant to ask the dentist, but he was mean. Maybe Siobhan would know. She’d mentioned that there were tigers in London, after all. 
> 
> “Do tigers go to the dentist?” Heather asked. “Real tigers, Siobhan. Like the ones in the zoo.” 
> 
> Siobhan nodded. She took the tools from her father. They didn’t look as scary in her hands. “The vet comes to the zoo and has them take a nap,” she explained, as she pushed the pedal on the dreaded chair so that she could adjust its height. “Then, while they’re sleeping, the vet cleans their fangs. Sort of how Martha gets her teeth cleaned.” 
> 
> “Martha doesn’t get her teeth cleaned,” Heather informed her. “Da! You told me doggies and moggies don’t have to go to the dentist!”

Paul shifted in the chair so that Heather could be more comfortable, more than a bit surprised that she’d agreed to sit with him in the chair in the first place. For all his talk about the office being child friendly, the examination room that Dr. Fitzpatrick insisted on subjecting them to was decidedly not. The room for the adult patients was cold and foreboding. None of the false friendliness of the dental surgery was maintained, and the posters admonishing patients of their responsibilities toward their dental health terrified him. No matter what he did to try to maintain his teeth, he wasn’t good enough at it. The models of the teeth and gums were equally traumatising to look at. He hated every aspect of the room.

Worse, Paul couldn’t imagine subjecting Heather to a dental examination if this was the setting she’d be dealing with. Heather was quite sensitive, and she had quite a lot of dental fear. Paul couldn’t blame her, of course. Her experience with the school dentist had sounded horrific. 

Having retrieved Penny from her mum, Heather had settled back on his lap. She’d clutched his hand with a strength that he hadn’t known that she had. The dog was tucked beside him. 

“What’s wrong?” Paul whispered to her. He was more than a bit annoyed that he was stuck in the dental surgery, and he regretted that Heather had seen his filling fall out. Yes, he was in pain, but it was a dull enough ache that he could have just gotten on with things. “Are you okay?” He felt Heather shaking like a leaf against his chest. His brave tiger's bravery was beginning to unravel. “Are ye cold? Mummy can cuddle ye under her coat and warm you up?”

Heather shook her head. “He’s right there,” she whimpered, the words barely audible. “He’s got all those  _ pointy _ things.”

Paul turned his head to see that Dr. Fitzpatrick had mistaken Linda’s presence as approval for him to begin the examination, instead of allowing Paul a few moments to reclaim some sort of comfort from the woman who was soon to be his bride. Paul treated him to a scowl. 

Dr. Fitzpatrick let out a sigh. “I told you that the examination would have to begin when Mrs. McCartney returned,” he reminded him. Any pleasure that Paul had gotten out of Linda being referred to by her married name had evaporated. “Surely you understand that the quicker I examine you, the sooner I can repair your filling, and then complete the examination on Linda?” 

“I understand that,” he insisted, as he gestured to Heather, who was clearly in a state of distress at the sight of the dentist, the apparatus for the gas and air, and the tray of tools mere inches away from her face. “You’re scaring her,” he pointed out, his tone purposely soft. He ran his hand down Heather’s back, hoping that he could provide her with some comfort. “Why would you position those tools like that while she’s right here?” 

“They’re scary,” Heather insisted, her tone frantic. “The dentist at school hurt me with them. He held my mouth open and he wouldn’t stop poking at me.” Heather had twisted her form away from Dr. Fitzpatrick, and her eyes were squinched shut. “I don’t want Daddy to get hurt like I was.” 

Linda sighed. “Come sit with me, Heather. Daddy will be fine.” 

Heather shook her head. “No, he won’t be! Dr. Fitzpatrick is going to hurt him like Grandpa’s dentist hurt me! He’s going to put that mask on his face and torture him!”

“It’s not going to torture me,” Paul forced himself to explain to Heather, who was at the point of tears. He could feel the material of his shirt dampening from her crying, though she was doing so silently. “The mask is to give me gas and air, that’s all. I promise.” 

“I don’t know what that is,” she whimpered. “It sounds scary.” 

“It’s not,” he promised her. “Why don’t you go sit with Mummy, and I’ll show you that it’s okay?” 

“I don’t want to leave you.” Heather’s face was streaked with tears. “I don’t want you to be alone.” 

“But, you’re not going to leave me,” he assured her. “Mummy’s going to stay here, where she’s sitting. You’re going to sit with Mummy. Right there. I promise. I won’t be alone like you were at the school.” 

It was clear that Heather had little desire to climb off his lap and settle on Linda’s, but she did so anyways, her posture making it clear that she was under duress. That was fine with Paul. He was also under duress. He was quite upset that the dentist couldn’t just fill his stupid cavity and replace the filling without subjecting him to a dental examination. Even more galling was the fact that he had to pretend that everything was going well with the examination so as to not upset Heather. Not upsetting Heather was his priority, even if it meant that he would have to be miserable as a result. Paul had had gas and air before. He hated it. He said stupid things when he was under the influence of the nitrous oxide and felt that he wasn’t in control of his actions. He had just forgotten that that was the name of the alternative the dentist had selected for him. 

No matter. He had already humiliated himself in front of Linda and Heather. He’d take the stupid sedative. 

Not bothering to wait for the dentist to help manoeuvre the mask for the gas and air for him, Paul stuck the mask to his face, and forced himself to inhale the medication. 

“Let’s just get it over with,” he muttered, once he’d felt it start to take affect. “I’d just as soon only have to take the one dose.” 

“The one dose?” Dr. Fitzpatrick echoed. “You’re meant to give yourself as many doses as needed.” 

“Right,” Paul retorted. “So I can humiliate myself by acting like I’ve gone entirely off my senses and gone crackers. I don’t think so.”

“You’re not going to humiliate yourself--”

Paul bit back what he wanted to say to the dentist, settling for something slightly less profane, and more in line with his Beatle Paul persona. “Really? You don’t think that I might find spouting off nonsense to be humiliating?”

Linda drew in a breath. “I’m sorry--”

“You don’t have to apologise,” he told Linda. “How were you meant to know what gas and air does? They don’t use it in America. He’s the one who puts it forth as some substitute. He knew that I would refuse. Now I’m going to sound bloody bat--bloody barmy. I’m going to make an arse out of myself in front of you and Heather, and I don’t want that. I took the dose. That should be enough. I’m not setting myself up for another round of a month of mockery. Not from you. I know won’t. John was bloody horrible though.”

Paul recounted the last time that he’d agreed to try out the gas and air. Dr. Fitzpatrick had informed his oft-missing patient that he needed a scaling done, and that he needed to be under some form of sedation, so a licensed driver was needed to drive him home. With Jane off on one of her theatre tours, she had been unable to accompany him, and Paul had been forced to run down a list of people who could possibly accompany him to the dental surgery. He had never heard so many excuses, not that he could blame any of them. The dental surgery was a horrid place. 

He had been afraid that he was going to have to ask his father, or worse, Angie, to drive out from the Wirral to bring him home from a dental surgery that was roughly fifteen minutes from his home, when a miracle had occurred: John had managed to pass his driving exam. How John had managed to pass said exam, Paul still wasn’t sure of, since the ride home had been even worse than his scaling. He still had nightmares about how John had driven. It had been quite the error of judgement on his part. 

Worst of all was the fact that Dr. Fitzpatrick and Marjorie had insisted that none of the embarrassing things he’d said under the influence of the gas and air would leave the dental surgery. He was certain they’d said that around John, and he was equally certain that John had ignored them, since his return to Abbey Road had been filled with people glancing at him and snickering. 

“I just don’t understand,” he finished. “You claim that there’s no use in my being a hero, that nothing will leave the walls of the dental surgery, and he just ignored that. Why bother lying to me?” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear to Paul that the memories of John at the dental surgery, or perhaps the description of his driving skills, had caused the dentist some mental distress. “Paul, I was talking about doctor-patient confidentiality,” he explained. “That means that none of the medical professionals in the surgery will start discussing you with the general public. It has nothing to do with John’s inability to recognise your distress at the thought of people knowing that you had had a perfectly normal reaction to nitrous oxide and his decision to encourage the tale of your trip to the dentist to be a source of humour. For the record, I don’t approve of his actions.” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was embarrassing,” he whispered. He turned his gaze to Linda, who had left Heather sat on the chair, while she knelt down beside him. He grabbed onto her hand. “I don’t want you to realise what an embarrassment that I am and decide to leave me, y’know.” 

“That’s not going to happen,” she soothed him, and she brought his hand down to the swell which contained their second child. “You’re not an embarrassment, first off,” she assured him. “Second off, you’ve knocked me up. You’re stuck with me.” 

Paul chuckled. “Knocked you up? That’s what the Yanks call it?” He pressed his hand down on her tummy. “Here we say that you’re up the duff.” He shot her a wicked grin. “Or that you’ve joined the pudding club.” He turned his attention to Butterfly. “I’ve got to go away for awhile. I can’t pay much attention to ye while the dentist is working. I’m sorry about that. I’m sure your big sister will have a cuddle with ye, though.” He turned his attention to Heather. “Will you watch the tiger cub for me?” 

Heather gave him a wounded look. After a moment, she nodded. “If you really want me to.” 

“Yeah, duck, I really want you to,” he whispered. “It would make me feel better about my examination.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Heather was still angry. The dentist had taken Daddy away from her and made her stop cuddling him. He hadn’t even cared that she was scared of his terrible tools. Heather couldn’t bear to look at her dad, or the chair he was in. Worst still, Daddy had told her that she had to cuddle with Mummy. While Heather usually adored cuddling with Mummy, especially now that Butterfly had made her presence known, she was currently quite upset with her. How dare she had been on the dentist’s side? Didn’t she know that dentists were evil, especially the ones with the pointy tools? She shuddered at the sight of the tray of tools. 

Daddy had taken another puff of the gas and air, clearly in some deluded attempt to make her feel better about it, and he was giggling at Mummy, who was still knelt beside him. Was that why Mummy’s knees had been so red earlier? Heather was still confused about that. 

The dreaded dentist was trying to get her father’s attention, and failing miserably. Heather let out a sigh. Either Daddy was ignoring the dentist on purpose or he was distracted, either way, it was unacceptable. Heather would have normally encouraged ignoring a dentist, she wasn’t a fan of them, but she wanted to get the entire debacle over with sooner, rather than later. 

She climbed off the chair that she was meant to be sharing with Mummy, and approached her. She rationalised that it was safe, as long as she stayed near her mum, and didn’t go anywhere near the dreaded chair. Dr. Fitzpatrick had one of the pointy things in his hand. The other held a mirror. The object had been so innocent when Siobhan had shown it to her, but it had quickly become Heather’s enemy. 

“Duckie!” Daddy addressed her, and he shot her a wide grin, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Have you come back for another cuddle?” 

“I don’t want to cuddle you!” Heather exclaimed. “I mean, I can’t cuddle you. Not when you’re on the chair. Not when the dentist is right there.” Heather couldn’t put into words why she wanted nothing to do with the chair or her father when the dentist was involved, but she was positively terrified by the man who held the tools that destroyed tiger teeth. “It’s too scary.” 

“I’ll just be a minute!” Daddy told the dentist, before he giggled once more. There was nothing funny about the dentist, and Heather vowed to remind him of this once he’d recovered from the dreaded gas and air. “Look, duck, I dunno that he means to scare you,” he insisted. Heather scowled. She had her hand on Mummy’s dungaree skirt, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. She’d take Mummy with her if she had to, there was no way she was going to sit there with the poking tools at the ready. “Honest. I wouldn’t lie to you. We’ll find you another dentist if you’re that scared.” 

“I want Siobhan to come back,” Heather whispered. “She was nice to me.” 

As if on cue, Siobhan entered the room. Heather could see the tiger tooth photographs in her hand. 

“Siobhan!” Daddy seemed quite glad to see Siobhan, though Heather wondered if some of that was induced by the stupid medicine that he’d had to take. The funny cigarettes never made Daddy or Mummy this giggly. “I’m having another baby!” While Heather appreciated the accommodation to her existence, she frowned at the fact that poor Butterfly was going to have attention paid to her. “What’s wrong, duckie?” He asked her. “Aren’t ye happy about the baby?” 

“You’re reminding the dentist of her!” 

“No,” Daddy corrected her. “Only Siobhan. I dunno where Dr. Patsfitrick went.” 

“He’s right there,” Heather insisted. “On your other side.” 

“Why don’t I handle Paul’s examination?” Siobhan suggested to her father. “You can look at the films? I think that he might handle it better.” 

“Are you sure?” Dr. Fitzpatrick asked. Daddy was quite interested in the palm of his hand, and seemed rather oblivious to the fact that he was being given a reprieve from the dentist. “Paul?”

“I said I’d be a minute,” Daddy told him. “Honestly, Brian, I’m not the only one here.” 

“Paul,” Mummy interjected. “Brian isn’t here.” 

“Who’s Brian?” Heather asked. She sidled up to the chair, and gave her dad a curious look. “Daddy?” 

“He is...was...one of my mates,” Daddy mumbled. “He liked Mummy’s pictures!”

“Then why isn’t he your friend anymore?” Heather was appalled. Why would Daddy stop being friends with someone who liked Mummy’s hard work? That was unfair. “Did he like Mummy how you like Mummy?” 

“No,” Daddy insisted. “Nothing like that. I dunno Heather,” he rambled. “One day he just left. He was gone.” 

“Did you want us to go look for him?” Heather didn’t know who Brian was. But he liked Mummy’s pictures. There had been a cat who had gone missing in her and Mummy’s old block of flats back in New York. The owner of the moggy had put up signs, and Heather herself had spotted the feline about a block away. She was sure that she’d be able to find Brian as well. “I found Mrs. Whiskers!”

“Who’s Mrs. Whiskers?” Siobhan asked her. Daddy was insisting that Brian needed to speak to the others about something, not that Heather could make out what he said. He was mumbling a bit. 

“A moggy,” Heather informed her. “One of the ones that purrs a lot!”

“A Persian?” Siobhan asked. Heather nodded. “I have two. Was there a Mr. Whiskers?” 

“Uh-huh, but he didn’t run away,” she explained. “Mummy and I got to meet him though! I think they’re expensive because they purr all over the bread?” She shrugged. “Why didn’t he answer me? Daddy?” 

“What, duckie?” 

“Do you want Mummy and me to go look for Brian?” 

Daddy shook his head. “What’d be the point? He’s gone, Hettie.” 

“Gone where?” Heather demanded. “Siobhan? What is he talking about?” 

“I think that your dad will tell you later,” Siobhan said after a moment. “I really think that he wants to have me examine his tiger teeth. Don’t you? While my dad looks at the pictures?” 

Heather nodded eagerly. She wanted to know who Brian was, and why he had left, but she was quite curious about what Siobhan’s tiger teeth examination would reveal for her daddy. She was also reminded of the question that she’d wanted to ask. She’d meant to ask the dentist, but he was mean. Maybe Siobhan would know. She’d mentioned that there were tigers in London, after all. 

“Do tigers go to the dentist?” Heather asked. “Real tigers, Siobhan. Like the ones in the zoo.” 

Siobhan nodded. She took the tools from her father. They didn’t look as scary in her hands. “The vet comes to the zoo and has them take a nap,” she explained, as she pushed the pedal on the dreaded chair so that she could adjust its height. “Then, while they’re sleeping, the vet cleans their fangs. Sort of how Martha gets her teeth cleaned.” 

“Martha doesn’t get her teeth cleaned,” Heather informed her. “Da! You told me doggies and moggies don’t have to go to the dentist!”

“It’s okay, Hettie,” Mummy said, from her position at Daddy’s side. “We’ll sort out an appointment for animals to have their teeth cleaned.” She squeezed Daddy’s arm. “I’m going to get up now, okay, Papa? I need to sit.” 

Siobhan had made the dreaded chair low enough for her to sit comfortably in it, and it had yet to be raised to Daddy’s height. That was why poor Mummy had been knelt on the floor. Heather hoped that the baby hadn’t minded Mummy doing that. Mummy had pulled herself up to a stand. Her hand was on her tummy. Heather admired the fact that Butterfly had grown enough that she could see her brother or sister’s home underneath the jumper that Mummy had borrowed from Daddy. Deciding that Butterfly was less of an enemy than the dental examination chair, and rationalising that Daddy was in Siobhan’s capable hands, Heather gave his hand one last squeeze. She approached her mum, her eyes set on her middle. 

“Hihihihi, little Butterfly,” Heather cooed. She flattened her palms against Mummy’s tummy. “Mummy, when will Butterfly flutter her wings?” 

Mummy smiled down at her. “Mmm, I reckon a few more weeks.” Heather pouted. “What’s wrong?” 

“I wish she could kick now,” she admitted. “I could see your Butterfly belly through your jumper.” 

Siobhan was smiling at the two of them. The dentist had busied himself putting Daddy’s tiger teeth photograph on display. She was glad he hadn’t noticed little Butterfly. 

“You’re excited,” Siobhan pointed out. Heather nodded. “You’re quite an attentive big sister. You noticed your brother or sister is growing.” 

“How many siblings to you have?” Heather asked her, not moving her hand from Butterfly. “Is it just you and Jacqueline?” 

Siobhan shook her head. “No, I’m one of six. The eldest. Like you are.” 

“Brothers?” Heather continued her line of questioning. “Or sisters?” 

“All sisters,” Siobhan told her. “You want a sister, too, don’t you?” 

Heather nodded. She wanted Butterfly to be a girl so much. “I want a sister,” she admitted softly. “But if it’s a brother, I’ll still love it.”

Daddy interrupted the conversation, clearly having processed that what he was seeing was Mummy’s Butterfly belly, and not the result of Mummy having a large meal. “Cor, would you look at that.” He beckoned Mummy closer to him. “We made that, huh, Lin?” 

“Yeah,” Mummy agreed. “We did. You seem pretty proud of yourself?”

Daddy nodded, and he clumsily patted Mummy’s tummy. “Your sister’s going to take care of you,” he informed the baby, in what Heather suspected was meant to be a whisper, but was really quite loud. “She loves you so much. She’s been asking if she can have a sibling for a while.” 

Daddy turned his attention to Heather. “You’ll be good? I know it’s scary. I’m so proud.” 

Heather felt the tips of her ears burn with embarrassment. She  _ wasn’t _ scared of anything. She was a big brave tiger. How dare Daddy suggest that she was so loudly? “Not scared,” she mumbled. “You don’t have to be proud of me.” 

“Well, that makes one of us,” he told her. “I’m fuckin’ terrified.” Heather wanted to reply, but Daddy had turned to Siobhan. “Let’s just get it over with.” 

Heather knew a dismissal when she saw one, even if Daddy hadn’t specifically told her to get out of his sight. She felt manipulated. Stupid Daddy trying to trick her into thinking that she was brave. She knew she wasn’t, and now she couldn’t even be with him. It wasn’t fair. She would have stayed out of Siobhan’s way as she did her examination. Instead she had to go away. But not even out to the waiting room with the fish. Instead, she was stuck cuddling with Mummy on the stupid chair in the stupid examination room, with stupid Dr. Fitzpatrick. 

Siobhan had taken the opportunity to start Daddy’s examination. Even though Heather had little desire to hear the hygienist pepper her father with her series of questions -- stupid ones, Heather thought -- she could hear her questions, and Daddy’s responses, clear as day. What was the point of Siobhan wasting her breath and asking Daddy if he smoked? Didn’t she have eyes? Daddy answered the series of questions without complaint, though he had some curious answers. Heather was certain that Daddy had done drugs before, and he was telling Siobhan that he hadn’t? Weren’t the funny cigarettes drugs? She pondered this, but didn’t want to ruin his secret. 

“You can update me weight in your father’s system,” Daddy told her. “My woman, she’s been feeding me regular meals. She seems to think I can’t live off coffee and ciggies me whole life.” 

“What are you up to?” Siobhan asked. Daddy listed a number. Heather frowned. Why would Daddy mention Mummy’s cooking like that? What if the dentist blamed Mummy for the boo boos?

“What’s wrong?” Mummy asked her. Heather shook her head. The hood of her tiger costume had fallen so it covered her eyes. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “I told Daddy I would cuddle with you, so I will.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You wouldn’t understand, anyways.” 

How could Mummy understand? She was a grownup, who had normal fears. Mummy was scared of planes because Grandma Louise had died in a plane crash. That was something that made sense. Heather was afraid of the dentist. He seemed quite rude. Heather could have looked past that, were it not for the terrifying tiger teeth molds that lined the shelves, and the equally horrifying posters chastising people for not taking care of their tiger teeth that lined the walls. She was dreading having to be examined herself in the same room in few short days. 

Mummy was already mad at her, though, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d yelled at her twice. It was better to say nothing at all.

“Heather…” 

She shook her head. “I said no.” 

Heather regretted giving Daddy Penny. He was cuddling her, though, so she didn’t demand her back. 

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing?” Siobhan offered. 

“No!” Heather insisted. “I don’t want to know. I don’t want you to tell me. You’re hurting him! Your dad is making you hurt him! He doesn’t like Daddy at all!” 

Mummy sighed. “Heather, that’s not true.” 

“You don’t know that,” she whispered. “He’s going to hurt me, too. Like Grandpa’s dentist.” 

“I’m sorry that Grandpa’s dentist hurt you,” Mummy said, her tone meant to be soothing. Heather felt her rubbing her back. “It was never my intention to have that happen, and I’m more than a bit irritated that it did. Just because you had one bad experience doesn’t mean that they’re all going to be bad.”

“There’s a family dental practitioner,” Siobhan interjected. “Dr. Bertram. She works with our clients who want to come in as a family and be seen by one practitioner. Dad, can you make some notes on Paul’s gums?”

Dr. Fitzpatrick seemed rather annoyed, and Heather curled closer to Mummy. The things that Siobhan was doing to Daddy seemed quite horrible. She had checked his gums and his teeth with some of her scary tools, and she had given him a tablet that turned his tiger teeth a funny colour. She had even lectured him on the potential dangers of smoking, in spite of the fact that Heather could make out the outline of a packet of cigarettes in her labcoat pocket. 

“She’s not Jacqueline,” Heather heard the dentist say, as he made the notations Siobhan had asked him to. “Not everyone is the right fit for Dr. Bertram.” 

“Why?” Siobhan demanded. “Dr. Bertram’s specialty is patients who have experienced dental trauma, and pediatrics. Why wouldn’t they be the right fit?”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Linda had little desire to play pass the parcel with dentists instead of parcels, but there was no way that Heather could have stomached having her appointment with Dr. Fitzpatrick. “Why don’t we just do that?” Linda suggested, thoroughly annoyed by the way the evening had turned out. Frankly, she had better things to do with her time than be sat at a dental surgery, and was more than a bit rankled that Paul wasn’t the dentist’s only patient. When Siobhan had pointed out that she didn’t want to be in pain for her wedding, Linda had agreed, neglecting to remember that both her companions had limited spans of patience for the dentist. Heather’s was probably longer than Paul’s. 

She was exhausted. She had hoped that Paul and Heather would have spent most of the evening out and about while she had the opportunity to relax, but those dreams had been dashed when the two of them had shown up and Heather had told her about her father’s broken filling.

Worst of all, it appeared that Heather’s assessment was right. Siobhan had just told her father that Paul had two cavities. 

Not only had Paul’s decision to completely neglect his dental health caused the dentist to need to see him for an emergency appointment, she had developed a cavity, and was at Dr. Fitzpatrick’s mercy as well. This meant that Linda couldn’t actually comfort Heather the way that she wanted to, because the things that she wanted to say to her would have been unkind to the dentist. Linda didn’t particularly think Dr. Fitzpatrick was deserving of praise, but she didn’t want to anger someone who was going to be performing a dental procedure on her. Even if it was at the expense of Heather’s feelings. “Would it be possible to switch our appointments to her?” 

“Of course,” Siobhan told her. “I think she’d be a better fit for Heather.” 

From the chair, Paul felt the need to contribute. “Isn’t that brilliant, Hettie? A special dentist, just for you.” 

Heather scowled. “I don’t want special treatment,” Heather muttered. While she was technically on Linda’s lap, Heather couldn’t have been further from her if she tried. “Not a baby.” 

“Of course you’re not a baby,” Siobhan assured her. “You’ve got legitimate fears, Heather. No one denies that.” 

“They’re  _ not _ legitimate,” she insisted. “They’re dumb.” 

“They’re not,” Linda whispered. “Honey, you’re so smart, and brave, and wonderful. You’re allowed to be scared of things.” 

“No, I’m not!” Heather exclaimed. “I get in trouble and ruin everything for everyone. You get yelled at and now I’m not allowed to be near Daddy. It’s not fair. I wouldn’t have been in the way. You yelled at me earlier! Twice!”

Linda felt rather guilty for that. She hadn’t meant to yell at Heather. She was just hormonal and stressed, and in a fair bit of dental pain. Heather hadn’t been listening to her in the waiting room, and the thought of being poked at by her mirror had practically brought her to tears. She hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Heather, however, so she had lashed out. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just...I wasn’t feeling well. Your father was upset. He needed some time alone. You need time alone sometimes too, don’t you?” Linda desperately hoped that Heather would understand. 

“I don’t leave you with a stranger!” Heather gulped. “Siobhan was nice, but she could have been mean. How would you have known otherwise?”

“Do you really think that Daddy would have let you go off with someone that was going to be mean to you?” 

Heather shook her head. “I want Penny,” she whimpered. 

“Go ask Daddy for her,” Linda encouraged. “I’m sure that he’ll give her back.” 

“I don’t want to upset him,” she whispered. “He was mad at me, too.” 

“Daddy was having a panic attack,” Linda reminded her. “He finds the dentist frightening and overwhelming, sort of like you do, so it may have seemed like he was mad, but he wasn’t angry at you. He isn’t angry at you. I’m not angry at you, either.” 

Heather inched closer to her. “You promise?” 

“I promise. Do you want a hug?” Heather nodded. “Come here, sweetie.” 

Heather settled herself on top of her, and she wrapped her arms around her, in order to snuggle her close. Heather had been through so much in her life. Linda had so many regrets, and most of them had to do with poor Heather, and how she’d been treated. Even though she knew logically that she wasn’t to blame for Heather’s torment at the only schools she’d ever been to, it still hurt her that she was bullied. 

“I love you, Mummy,” she whispered. Her voice was somewhat muffled by the material of the jumper that Linda was wearing. “You smell like Daddy.” 

“I borrowed his jumper,” she reminded Heather. “As is evident, I’m growing out of my clothes.” 

The skirt she had on was uncomfortably tight. It had been a poor choice to wear to the dental surgery. 

She let out a sigh. She was sure that Dr. Fitzpatrick was a perfectly serviceable dentist, seeing as he had been Paul’s dentist for many years, in addition to being the Ashers’ personal dentist. Heather had told her that the dentist had been nice to her and Paul at the florist’s, and she was sure he had been. It was just that Heather needed a friendlier touch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want Siobhan to explain what she’s doing?” Linda asked Heather, her tone gentle. Heather shook her head. “Why not?” 

“Because, it’s scary,” she whispered. “The tools, they look like the ones that hurt me.” 

Linda watched as Paul started to comply with the dental examination. She was irritated that he was stalling but what could she do? He was fearful of the dentist, like Heather was. She couldn’t entirely blame either of them. Paul had been needlessly traumatised by a series of inappropriate practitioners, and Heather had just had the one, but she was younger, and more impressionable. 

Linda didn’t know what the dentist in New York had done to Heather. Heather had refused to explain her version of what had happened that day, only insisting that the dentist had hurt her. Whenever she asked Heather for clarification on the subject, she’d become inconsolable. 

“Daddy’s not in any pain,” she reminded her. “That’s because of the gas and air.” 

Heather shifted on her lap. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” Linda stroked her hair. “Did you look at Daddy’s tiger teeth with your mirror?” Guilt still stabbed at her heart from how she had reacted to Heather’s request. She was quite angry that she had responded in the manner that she had, and she didn’t know if she could forgive herself for crushing Heather’s spirit. 

Heather shook her head. “No,” she mumbled. Linda watched her rub the side of her mouth.

“No?” Linda didn’t want to call attention to Heather’s actions, since she knew how sensitive her little tiger was to any and all mentions of her developing adult teeth. She didn’t want to upset her further. It was clear that her brave tiger was on edge. “Why not? He didn’t want you to?” 

“No, he said that I could,” Heather whispered. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to look at yours, not at Daddy’s. I already know that his tiger teeth have boo boos in them. He…” Heather trailed off. “He wanted to look at mine.”

Heather had already told Linda this, but she could tell it was still bothering her. “You didn’t want him to look at yours?” 

“I don’t want molars!” Heather exclaimed, in a hushed tone. “Mummy, they scare me. They hurt so much and now they feel weird.”

“Weird?” Linda asked. “Are they numb?”

Heather nodded. “He had Daddy put this special cream on them,” she recounted. “I didn’t know it would make them numb, I just wanted them to feel normal again.”

Linda sighed. She had no desire to tell Heather that her teeth would only feel normal once the molars had completely broken through. It was clear that Heather was distraught over the changes in her body. She was sure that being in the dental surgery was equally detrimental to Heather’s equilibrium. 

“Are you hungry?” Linda asked. “I brought you a sandwich.” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t want to eat,” she informed her. “Not hungry.” 

Linda decided not to push it. “Are you sure? It’s peanut butter and banana. I cut it just the way you like it.” 

“Not hungry, Mummy,” she insisted. “I want to cuddle with you and Butterfly.” 

“We can do that,” she assured her, and she settled back in the chair. Heather laid her head on her tummy. “Maybe you’d feel better if you took a nap?”

Heather shuddered. “What’s she doing to Daddy?” 

“I’m just examining his teeth,” Siobhan interjected. “You were right. He does have a second boo boo.”

Paul let out a groan. “I’m not getting it filled in.” 

Linda sighed. She didn’t have the energy to deal with Paul and his complaining about the dentist. She didn’t want to get her tooth filled anymore than he did, but did you hear her whining about it? No. She was just going to get on with it. 

“Paul…” Was there an edge to her tone? Perhaps, but Linda felt it was justified. She had better things to do with her time than sit there while Paul tried to argue his way out of a second filling. “If you don’t get it filled today, you can forget what we talked about.” 

“What did the two of you talk about?” Heather asked her, her tone curious. “Mummy?”

“I told Daddy that if he behaved at the dentist, we’d take a bath together,” she explained. It wasn’t as if she was lying to Heather, more like fudging the truth a bit. She didn’t necessarily care if Heather found out that she and Paul had sex -- Linda didn’t believe in lying to her children about things that were perfectly natural -- she just had little desire to have such a conversation at the dentist. “A bubble bath. You like those, don’t you?” 

Heather nodded. “Why can’t I join you?” 

“Um, because we’re going to take one after you go to sleep,” she said rather hastily. “You can join us another time, maybe?” 

Heather sighed. “I guess,” she mumbled. “Why do I have to have a bedtime?” 

“So that you can grow big and strong,” Linda reminded her. “Like a big strong tiger.” 

Heather glared at her. “I don’t  _ want _ to be big and strong. That’s why we’re here. My stupid teeth ruined everything.” She let out a wide yawn. “Can we go home, Mummy?” 

Linda ran her fingers through Heather’s hair. She could see that the dentist had a needle in his hand, and he was intent on giving Paul his numbing shots. That was fine with Linda, but she needed Heather to be distracted. She wondered if she would be convinced to take a nap. 

“We have to stay here,” she whispered. “With your dad. Are you tired?” 

Heather nodded. She tugged Linda’s coat over her, and snuggled closer. “Will Daddy get mad if I take a nap?” 

“No,” Linda assured her. “Daddy won’t get mad. I promise.” 

“Will you sing me a goodnight song?” Heather asked. “Even though it’s not bedtime?” 

“Of course I will. Whatever you’d like.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“...why don’t you sit down in the chair your wife’s in and rest for a bit,” Paul heard Dr. Fitzpatrick say, and he belated realised that he had missed the majority of what the dentist had bothered to try to tell him in the first place. If Linda had been listening, good for her. He was sure that she’d tell him what the dentist had said when they got home. He was just relieved to be done with both of his horrible fillings, even though the gas and air had allowed him to tolerate the procedures with minimal complaining. The side of his mouth that had been affected was entirely numbed. “Mrs. McCartney can come sit in the chair, while I ready her tools and pull up her x-ray.” 

Paul glanced over at Linda and Heather. Heather was soundly asleep on her mum’s lap. Their little girl had used Linda’s tummy as an impromptu pillow.    
  


He shrugged. “Yeah, all right, if that suits you.” Dr. Fitzpatrick had seemed annoyed from the moment Siobhan had mentioned that there was a children’s dentist in the dental surgery, and Paul wasn’t entirely sure why. Surely even the dentist could see that Heather was distressed at his presence. Didn’t he want Heather to go to see  _ a _ dentist, even if it wasn’t him? “Surely you’re not upset that I’ve become someone else’s problem?”

The dentist let out a sigh. “Siobhan thinks that every child should see Dr. Bertram,” he informed him. There was a hint of exasperation in his tone. “I don’t understand why. She thinks I’m too hard on people!”

“You?” Paul asked. He gave him an innocent gaze. “Maybe that’s because you set her up for years of torment when you put her in that ridiculous apparatus and fed her to the wolves? For what? Because her teeth weren’t perfect? Wires couldn’t have been enough? You had to give her a set of headgear?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m a parent, the same as you,” Paul retorted. He crossed his arms. “Heather’s mine, as much as the one that’s inside of her mummy. I understand having to make terrible choices for the betterment of your children,” he huffed. “I rang up here, didn’t I? You think I want to send Heather to a dentist?” He shook his head. “You let Siobhan be tortured by those pricks at her school because you read in some article that the experimental headgear you shoved her in in addition to wires would straighten her teeth 2 percent more.” 

Paul hadn’t taking an A Level in Maths, but he knew that would have been much too low a percentage for him to justify a child coming home in tears every evening. Especially if it hadn’t been necessary. 

“I only wanted what was best for her teeth,” Dr. Fitzpatrick told him. “Look, take Heather to the pediatric dentist if you think it’s in her best interests. She certainly seemed uncomfortable around me.” 

Paul slid off the chair, and stood on his own two feet. “That’s because she’s terrified. Don’t you remember being a little kid? That dentist traumatised her, and I bet he did it on purpose. I don’t think you’re a bad dentist, or anything, I just don’t think that you’re right for Heather.” Paul glanced over at Heather, who had her palms splayed across her mummy’s tummy. At least she wasn’t sucking her thumb. “I just want to do right by her, y’know? I haven’t been able to do right by her for very long, but she deserves it.” 

He grabbed Penny by her scruff, and cradled her in his arms. He was glad that Heather had allowed him the comfort of her pet. The safety of her animal secured, he headed over to where she and Linda were sat. He leaned over and did his best to give her a kiss. His mouth was still numb, but he wanted to show her some affection. Taking care not to wake Heather, he patted her tummy. “Hullo, Mummy,” he whispered. “Want me to sit with our girl?” 

“I think that you should take her out to the waiting room,” Linda told him, her tone low. Heather stirred. “I want her to eat her sandwich.” 

“I don’t want to,” he heard Heather mumble. “Not hungry.” 

“Well, we don’t have to go out there because of you,” Paul suggested. “I need to go smoke a ciggie.” 

He heard Heather sigh. “Will you carry me?” 

“Course, I’ll carry you,” he assured her. “You want to take Penny with us?” 

She shook her head. “Mummy will need her more. She’s going to be tortured.”

“Mummy’s not going to be tortured, duck,” he promised. “Come ead, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll carry ye to the waiting room and you can look at the fish.” 

Paul really wanted to take Heather outside, but he didn’t know if he could handle carrying her down the steps from the dental surgery. The office building lacked a lift. He was still waiting for the last of the gas and air to wear off. 

“Will you look at the fish with me?” Heather asked. He nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “We can go.” 

After Heather had said her goodbyes to her mother and little Butterfly, Paul had said his as well. He carefully lifted Heather up into his arms. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“You okay?” He asked her softly. He held the sandwich that she’d refused to eat in his free hand, along with her favourite picture book. “You had a good kip?” 

Heather nodded. She yawned rather widely. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she whispered. “I wanted to be there for you.” 

“Ah, but you were there for me, duck,” he promised her. “Just having ye and Mummy in the room with me made me feel better.”

  
  
  



	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spectre of her missing father had cast a cloud over Heather from the moment that she’d realised that most people she knew had both mothers and fathers. Linda had done her best to try to explain to her that she was more than capable of having enough love for both parental roles, but Heather knew that she was different. She felt out of place. Sometimes, Linda regretted having moved back to New York, even though it was the only logical choice to have made. It had thrust her and Heather into a world where neither of them truly belonged.
> 
> Not to mention, Mel’s insistence that Paul only be allowed to adopt Heather if he and Linda were married really chafed on her. Mel hadn’t bothered to send Linda a cent of the support that their divorce agreement entitled her to, money that was meant to go towards their child, and he certainly never bothered to try to contact Heather. What gave him the right to demand anything? 

Siobhan watched as Heather stirred, the rather large yawn that she displayed making it clear to her that Heather hadn’t been sleeping very well, if at all. Paul bore a pleased expression on his face at the sight of his child. 

“What a good tiger cub yawn that was,” he cooed. “You’re very good at being a tiger.”

“You really think so?” Heather asked. She held her arms out for Paul to pick her up. “Why do you think so?” 

Siobhan watched Paul lift her up and into his arms. He only swayed a bit on his feet, but he maintained his footing. She didn’t want to encourage that he put Heather down. She didn’t think that would go well for either party. 

“Well, y’know, that yawn you just did,” he clarified. “You looked like a tiger would’ve.” 

Heather kissed his cheek. “I wanna be the best tiger,” she insisted. 

“You are.” He sighed. “Why don’t we let Mummy get into the chair, and--”

“No!” Heather exclaimed. “I don’t want her to!”

“Heather--”

Siobhan watched as she struggled in Paul’s arms. “Put me down!” She commanded. “I don’t want the dentist to hurt her! Coming here ruined Mummy’s tiger teeth!” 

“Why do you want me to put you down?” Paul asked her. “I thought you wanted me to hold you?” The confusion was evident in his tone. “Why’d’you think coming here’s ruined your mum’s tiger teeth?” 

“You said I was a good tiger cub,” Heather reminded her. “I want to prove it.” 

“By doing what?” 

“Showing the dentist I won’t let him hurt Mummy! He’s being so mean! To everyone!”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Siobhan didn’t know what Heather whispered in Paul’s ear, but his eyes grew to be the size of dinner plates. “Duck, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“What did she say?” Linda asked him. Her tone was wary. Siobhan watched her reach for Heather, and Paul settled her on her lap. “What did you say to Daddy?” 

“I told him that I wanted to use my tiger teeth,” Heather informed her. “I don’t understand why he won’t let me. I just want to act like a tiger would at the zoo!”

“Heather Louise! You want to bite the dentist?” 

Siobhan did her best to hide her look of amusement. “It’s been done before. It doesn’t make much of a difference.” 

Heather scowled. “Mummy’s tiger teeth are ruined because of him. If he hadn’t made Daddy come here they would have been perfect forever.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can threaten to bite the dentist!” Linda chastised. “And they weren’t perfect. I just didn’t want you to know.” 

The little tiger let out a howl. “Mummy!” 

“What?” 

“You were  _ lying _ to me about your tiger teeth?” 

Paul sighed. “Come on, duck, get up so Mummy can get in the chair.” 

“I don’t want Mummy to get in the chair,” Siobhan heard Heather insist, in a rather loud tone. She cringed at her volume. Though the comment had been directed to Heather’s father, Siobhan feared that her own father would take it upon himself to both respond, and worsen the situation. “I don’t want her to get her tiger teeth fixed!”

“Hettie, c’mon,” Paul said, his hand on Heather’s back. “Mummy just needs to sit in the chair for a little bit, and she’ll be all right. I promise.” 

Heather shook her head. “No, she won’t be! They’re going to give her that scary thing they had you take!”

“What are you talking about?” 

“The thing you put in your mouth!” Heather gestured to the mechanism that held the gas and air. “It made you think you were seeing people!”

Paul looked confused. “I dunno what you’re talking about, duck.” 

“Nothing, Paul,” Linda interjected. Siobhan tried not to gape at the accent that left her lips, as she wondered how someone who was from New York City, like Heather had claimed, could sound so naturally English. Part of Siobhan thought that it wasn’t fair. She had tried so hard to lose her Irish brogue, and nothing she had done had worked. Paul’s wife and daughter had managed to sound like they were born there. “I’ll explain it to you later.” 

“No,” he corrected. “I want to know now. Who the bloody hell does she think I saw?” 

“You were confused,” Linda insisted. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Someone named Brian,” Heather told him. Siobhan watched as the colour drained from Paul’s face. 

“Heather, I said that we would talk about it later,” Linda begged. 

Siobhan watched Heather clench her hands into fists. “I want to talk about it now!”

“I said that we can talk about it later.” 

“Daddy was upset!” Heather continued, barreling over her mother’s objections. “Why can’t I find out why?” 

“This is not the time. I want to get this over with so I can go home.” 

“Right,” Paul said in agreement. Siobhan watched him ruffle Heather’s hair. “Why don’t ye give your mum a cuddle, and we’ll go off to the waiting room?” 

“I don’t want to leave Mummy alone!” 

“She’s not going to be alone.” 

Siobhan watched as Paul knelt down on the carpet of the examination room, in order to be eye level with Heather. This was a side of him that she’d never seen before. Of course, Siobhan knew that Paul was good with children. He’d always been tolerant of her and her sisters. There was something different about his interactions with Heather, though. 

“She’ll have Siobhan,” he continued. “Siobhan will keep her company while her dad is filling Mummy’s tiger tooth.” 

“And making sure her tiger gums are okay?” Heather’s tone was quite miserable. “I don’t know how they got so red.” 

Siobhan knew that her father was getting impatient. He wasn’t going so far as to be openly rude to Heather, but she could tell that his patience with the child was waning. Siobhan wanted to point out to him that his slamming about the dental surgery, and his rather gruff behaviour, were only adding to Heather’s distress. Not to mention Paul’s. He was hiding it better for Heather’s sake, but she knew that he had a paralysing fear of the dental surgery. 

“Yeah, Siobhan will make sure her tiger gums are okay,” Paul assured her. Siobhan watched as he tugged on Heather’s hood, which had fallen off her head. “D’you want me to fix your tiger costume?” 

She shook her head. “No! I want you to tell me why Mummy’s tiger teeth looked like that!”

Siobhan heard her father clear his throat. “Your mother probably didn’t go to the dentist enough. It’s important to go regularly. Isn’t that right, Paul?” 

Paul stiffened. “Uh, yeah, I--” 

Heather scowled, and Siobhan watched as she broke away from her father, her hands clenched in fists. “Leave him alone.” 

“How dare you take--”

“Dad!” Siobhan hissed. “It’s because of her pregnancy,” she told Heather. “It’s nothing bad.” 

Heather gulped. “Why would Butterfly do that to Mummy? How can I make her feel better?”

“I think that your mummy would feel better if you gave her a cuddle,” Siobhan suggested. “Don’t you feel better when you get cuddles from her when you’re in a bad mood?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, Mummy gives the best cuddles. I love her so much.” 

“I know you do,” Siobhan told her. “So does your mummy.” 

Heather glanced over at Linda. “You do? Mummy? You know I love you?” 

“Of course, Hettie, sweetie. I know that you love me. I love you too,” she cooed. Siobhan noticed Heather brighten. “I’m going to be okay. I’m not going to have gas and air, I promise.” 

“You promise?” Heather whispered. Siobhan could barely hear the little girl. “Mummy, what if it bothers Butterfly?”

“Your brother or sister is quite cozy inside of me,” Linda assured her. “I doubt that the baby will even notice.”

“Is it cozy because you’re wearing Daddy’s pullover jumper?” 

“No, the pullover jumper makes Mummy cozy,” Paul told her. He had straightened himself up, and flashed Heather a grin. Siobhan could tell that the novocaine had yet to wear off, since Paul’s grin was quite lopsided. At the sight of his smile, Heather giggled. “What’s so funny?” 

“Your face!” Heather snickered. “Your smile is so silly. If the pullover jumper makes Mum cozy, what keeps the baby cozy? Do you know, Da?”

Paul rubbed at the side of his face, and his cheeks coloured a dark red. “I didn’t mean…” He trailed off. “One of the books that I’ve been reading tells me that the baby’s quite protected inside of your mummy,” he told Heather. The little girl was listening intently. “That the baby’s inside of a little waterbed that makes things quite safe for the little mite. It grows with the baby, y’know?” 

“Is that why Mummy’s bigger?” 

“Mummy’s getting bigger because of little Butterfly, yeah,” he said. “It’s normal. She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?” 

Heather nodded. She proceeded to launch herself onto her mother’s lap. “I love you, Mummy.”

“I love you, too,” Linda cooed. “Are you sure you want me to keep Penny?” 

“Uh huh,” she said. “She’s a good doggy. She’ll protect you.” 

“Protect me?” Linda echoed. “Darling, it wasn’t so bad when Daddy did it, was it? Was it bad, Papa?” 

Paul leaned over and gave Linda a kiss. “You’ll be fine, Mama. I promise. And, I’ll take care of our girl.” 

Siobhan busied herself ridding the trays that her father had used for Paul, and replacing them with new trays with clean tools on them for Linda’s examination and procedure. Since the gas and air had been refused, she took off the mouthpiece and set it aside to be sanitised. It needed to be done, and she didn’t want to appear as if she was intruding on a private moment between Paul and his new family. She couldn’t help being a little jealous. It wasn’t as if she was stupid enough to think she would have ever had a chance with Paul -- he was a Beatle, and he had seen her during the worst years of her life -- but it was still somewhat of a blow to her ego. 

Paul still thought of her as a little kid. She had been humiliated when he’d told her that she was like a sister to him...with the caveat that he preferred her father to his ‘wicked stepmother’. She hadn’t wanted to be like his sister -- she’d wanted to pretend they’d had half a chance together.

Now, he was a father, and he had a wife, and they were building a family together. Siobhan couldn’t help what she was feeling, even though she knew that what she was feeling was daft. Paul still felt the same way about her that he’d always felt -- that she was the dentist’s awkward daughter who had the stupid headgear and the even stupider braces -- so why did it matter to her that he was married? She wasn’t delusional. Paul had always mentioned wanting a family. She was glad that it had happened for him. 

That didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. Not to mention, her father was treating her just awfully. 

Siobhan didn’t normally work with her father, simply because he treated her line of study like it was a joke. Dr. Fitzpatrick seemed to think that going to the dentist was something that people should just get on with, regardless of whether or not they had legitimate issues with the dentist, or reasons to want to avoid it. She had agreed to come into work on her day off solely as a courtesy to Paul. 

Paul who was trying to make out with his wife and failing miserably, due to the fact that half his mouth was still numb. His attempts had seemed to cheer Linda, though, who seemed to be in a somewhat more pleasant mood.

“Come on, duck,” she heard him say to Heather. “We’ve got to go. Let them do their work.” 

Heather caught a glimpse of her father’s drill, and her eyes widened. “What’s that? Daddy?” 

“That’s, uh, how they’re to fix Mummy’s teeth,” he said. “Don’t worry. She won’t feel anything.” 

“Daddy!” Heather protested. Her face reddened. Siobhan watched as Paul effortlessly scooped her up into his arms. “That’s not--they’re going to torture her!”

“No, they’re not,” Paul insisted. “I know that you’re nervous because of what happened when you went to the dentist, but you have to understand that they’re just wanting to fill Mummy’s cavity. They’re not going to torture her. You were sleeping when--”

Heather shook her head. “I wasn’t. I tried so hard to be a brave tiger and go to sleep,” she recounted, rather miserably. Siobhan decided that she would let Heather pick out a second toy from the treasure chest. “I pretended to be asleep because I didn’t want anyone to worry about me, but I heard everything. The things that the dentist said, the sound of the drill?” She visibly shuddered. “What if Dr. Fitzpatrick is mean to Butterfly?” 

“He’s not going to be mean to Butterfly--”

Her father cleared his throat. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m not talking to you, am I?” Paul returned his attention to Heather. “I promise, Butterfly doesn’t even know what’s going on. The baby’s inside of Mummy’s tummy, and their waterbed is protecting them. D’you want to say goodbye to the baby?” 

Siobhan watched Heather as she eagerly nodded. The little girl was so sweet. It was clear to her that Heather relished her role as big sister, and it was equally clear to her that Paul had taken Heather in as his own. He didn’t seem to be treating her like she was anything less than his daughter. Siobhan thought it was very sweet. 

“Is that really necessary?” 

“Dad…” 

“Come off it,” Paul chided him. “She wants to say goodbye to her brother or sister. Leave her be.” Heather whispered in his ear, and Paul returned his attention to his daughter. “Why don’t ye ask Siobhan that?” 

Heather shook her head. 

“D’you want me to ask her?” He asked. She watched Heather nod. “All right, then, I will. Siobhan?” 

“What is it, Paul?” 

“Young Heather’s wondering if you’ll keep her mum and the baby company during her procedure. You see, she wants to do it herself, but she’s willing to use you as a substitute. Isn’t that right, Heather?” 

Heather nodded. “Please? Do you promise you won’t torture her?” 

* * *

  
  


“I’m not going to torture your mum,” Siobhan promised Heather, who eyed her suspiciously, as she snuggled closer to Daddy. Poor Daddy! He’d been tormented by the dentist. “Honest, Heather, I promise.” 

Heather sighed. She knew that Siobhan was telling the truth. In a technical sense, of course. Siobhan probably wouldn’t be torturing Mummy. The problem was, the same couldn’t be said of her father. She distrusted the dentist. He had hurt Daddy. The poor thing kept talking funny, and he hadn’t even had any of his fun grown up drinks. The whole side of his face that Dr. Fitzpatrick had been attacking looked so weird. 

“What happened to your face?” She asked Daddy. “Your mouth isn’t moving right. Did he break you?”

“No,” Paul mumbled. “It’s just numbed because of the bloody novocaine. I’m fine, duckie.” 

“Is that going to happen to Mummy?” Heather tried -- and failed -- at hiding the alarm in her tone. “Why would you let him hurt Mummy like that?”

“I’m not going to hurt you mother--”

“How do you know?” Heather pointed out. “I hurt her when I almost touched her tiger gums with a mirror! You’re going to use that scary thing! On her! On Butterfly.” 

Siobhan glared at her father. “Stop, Dad! You’re scaring her.” 

“Everything scares me,” she whispered. “Why should the stupid dentist be any different?” 

Siobhan had crossed the room to where Daddy stood, and Heather buried her face in his chest. “Heather…” 

“What?” 

“I’m sorry about my dad,” she insisted. “You have to understand that Mummy isn’t going to feel any of those things. I’m going to give her a numbing gel like you have on your tiger teeth, and the novocaine will make her face numb, yes, but that’s good. It means she won’t feel things. I promise, I won’t torture her.”

“Yeah, you won’t,” she muttered. “You’re not the dentist. He’s going to make Mummy feel so horrid about her tiger teeth. If she didn’t want  _ me _ to look at them, why does she want  _ him _ to?” 

“I’ll be there with Mummy the whole time,” Siobhan told her. “It won’t be so bad. She’s got your dog--”

“Her name’s Penny,” Heather reminded her. “Penny Lane.” 

“Right, she’s got Penny to keep her company. Penny helped your dad out too, didn’t she?” 

Heather nodded, though she was somewhat concerned it was a trap. “I think so,” she whispered. She gazed up at Daddy. “Did Penny help you, Daddy? When the dentist was hurting you?” 

“Of course she did,” Daddy told her. “She was a great help. I’m sure that she’ll help Mummy too.” 

Heather sighed. She snuggled closer to him. “If you say so.”

Frankly, Heather wanted to take Penny with her. She didn’t trust Dr. Fitzpatrick to leave her trusted companion alone if she left her with Mummy, but Mummy needed someone to cuddle while she was being scraped and prodded at. Leaving Penny with her, it was. She knew Penny was trustworthy. 

When Daddy had just been Mummy’s friend Paul, he and Mummy had come on one of the scary planes from England so that they could get to know each other. Having already spoken with Paul on the telephone, she’d been surprised to meet him in the flesh? Why would anyone who didn’t have to go on an airplane? They’d already met over the phone, so the fact that he’d come made Heather think he was super brave. He’d brought Penny over with him. 

He had explained to Heather that he had a sheepdog back home, and he wanted her to have Penny, so she could have a dog too. Heather knew that Penny wasn’t a real doggy, just like she knew that she wasn’t really a tiger, but she had embraced the concept. Just because Penny was a cuddly toy didn’t mean that she couldn’t give her love and cuddles, and scratches behind the ears, or take her out on walks. 

Paul had become Daddy, and Mummy had broken the news to Heather that they were going to have to fly on an airplane, because Daddy needed to go back to work. Heather hated Daddy’s job. It meant that they had to fly on scary planes and live in a house where mean people camped out outside their front door. Without his beard, Daddy was recognised wherever they went. Heather _ hated _ it. 

But, she’d hated airplanes more. How could Daddy drag her on one, and then not give her those pills he’d given Mummy? Heather had been paralysed by fear. Daddy suggested that she cuddle Penny. He’d explained to her that he cuddled Martha when he was scared. Heather had decided to give it a shot. Penny had helped her. Surely she’d help Mummy now.

“I do say so,” he agreed. “Did you know I named Penny after a song I wrote?” 

Heather shrugged. Daddy had lots of songs. Why would he name Heather’s toy after one of them? She loved Penny so much. Daddy clearly didn’t love his records, even though Mummy said he worked so hard on them. 

“I did,” he continued. “I wrote a song about Penny Lane, a neighbourhood I used to hang ‘round when I was still living in Liverpool.” 

“You said you didn’t like to listen to your records,” Heather reminded him. “When I told you I wanted to listen to the one you met Mummy with, you said it was in your record pile.” Heather didn’t know what that meant, but Mummy made a noise of disbelief from the dreaded chair. “He said he would get it out, Mum, after I told him that I wanted to listen to it!”

“You keep your Beatles records in a pile?” Mummy asked. Her tone was roughly the same as when she’d chastised Heather for wanting to look at her tiger teeth earlier. “What is she talking about, Paul?” 

“Just that I keep them stacked,” Daddy said, rather evasively. Heather stared at him. “What?” 

“You told me that you kept them by the safe that you keep your paypackets in,” Heather reminded him. How could Daddy be so forgetful. He had definitely told her that. “Why wouldn’t you tell Mummy that? Maybe she wants to listen to them?” 

“You keep your paypackets in a safe?” Mummy echoed. The tone was back. Heather wondered if her tiger gums were still bothering her. She didn’t dare ask. “Paul, I--you know what? We’ll talk about this later. I just want to get this over with.” 

“What’s a paypacket?” Heather asked. “Is that how you get money every week?” 

Daddy shrugged. “Yeah, I reckon it is,” he told her. “I dunno, really. Every week we get one, and I toss it in the safe. What else am I meant to do with it?” 

When Mummy had worked for the magazine, she had gotten paid every week, just like Daddy. Heather remembered getting picked up from her daycare and going on the bus with Mummy to the bank she belonged to. She felt quite grown up getting to go with Mummy to the bank. The person who was behind the counter always treated her with respect, and she always got a lollipop. Mummy never got a lollipop. She’d gotten money. There had never been any safe involved, at least, not as far as Heather could remember. 

“Mummy used to take me to the bank,” Heather told him. “I think they give you money there. They gave me a lollipop whenever we’d go.” 

The dentist made a noise of disapproval. Heather scowled. 

“Dad,” Siobhan said. “Isn’t it best to have sweets in moderation? I don’t think that you should get angry at Heather for taking a free lollipop. She isn’t even going to be your patient.” 

Heather sighed. She hadn’t meant to cause trouble by bringing up the free lollipop, it had just been something that had made her feel special. She’d thought maybe Daddy would be more willing to do to the bank if he knew that they’d given out lollipops. Daddy had a sweet tooth, just like she did. 

“Mummy?” Heather asked. Mummy looked over at her. Heather studiously avoided looking at the dreadful mechanisms surrounding Mummy and the chair. She knew that she could be brave and give Mummy and the baby a cuddle. She’d cuddled with Daddy on the chair, hadn’t she? She’d annoyed Dr. Fitzpatrick, too, which was only a bonus as far as Heather was concerned. “Can I give the baby a goodbye cuddle?” 

“Sure, sweetie,” Mummy told her. She offered Heather a wide smile. Heather heard Dr. Fitzpatrick make a noise of discontent. “I think that the baby would like that. I definitely would.” 

“What about me?” Daddy asked Mum. “Would the baby like a goodbye cuddle from me?”

“Mmm, you know the answer to that,” Mummy told him. Heather noticed the gleam in her eyes. “Why don’t you let our little girl cuddle with me first, and then you, Papa?”

“Come on, duck,” Daddy told her, and he lowered her down on Mummy’s lap. His eyes locked on Mummy’s tummy. “Lin…? Is that the baby?” 

Heather watched as Mummy’s cheeks turned a bright pink. She nodded. “Yeah, do you want to see?” 

Daddy licked his lips. He nodded. “Yeah, Lin, of course I do. I’d love to see our baby.” 

“What about you, duckie?” Mummy asked Heather. “Want to show your dad my tummy?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, I want to show him,” she insisted. “Can I pull up your jumper?” 

“Go ahead,” Mummy said, her tone encouraging. Heather knew that she had to be gentle. Mummy was already in pain because of the dreadful dentist and her own attack on poor Mummy’s tiger teeth. She was surprised that Mummy was letting her cuddle with her at all. “It’s okay, Hettie.”

Permission granted, Heather lifted up Mummy’s top, revealing the fact that Butterfly had begun to expand her living space. She was expanding Mummy as well. Heather noticed that her skirt was straining to remain buttoned and zipped. Daddy’s t-shirt was even looking somewhat snug. 

“She’s getting so big,” Heather gushed. She patted Mummy’s tummy. “Hihihihi little Butterfly. What are you up to?” 

Mummy ruffled her hair. “Butterfly’s causing trouble,” she told her. 

“Trouble? Why?” Heather questioned. “She should be a good girl.” Heather knew there was a chance that Butterfly could be a boy. She had decided that would be a non-issue until it happened. “Did she really ruin your tiger teeth?” 

“It’s only a cavity,” Mummy told her. “It’s not that big a deal. I promise. I’m going to be just fine.” 

“Wow, Lin,” Daddy interjected. “Is that the sprog?” 

She nodded. “What do you think?” 

“I think that it’s brilliant,” Daddy insisted. Heather watched as he kissed Mummy on her lips, one of his hands settling beside hers. “The little one’s keen to be noticed?” 

She nodded. “It seems that that’s that case.” 

Daddy grinned. “I love you, Lin.” He gave Mummy another kiss. Heather watched him caress Mummy’s tummy. “What d’ye think of your brother or sister’s little surprise, duck?” 

“She’s brilliant,” Heather breathed. “I can’t wait until she starts to kick. When do you think that will be, Mummy?” 

“I’ll tell you,” Mummy promised. “You and Daddy, you’ll be the first to know.” 

“Wow,” Daddy echoed. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick sighed. Heather reached her arms up, wanting her dad to hold her. She didn’t want to be around when the dentist started lecturing Mummy again. 

Heather burrowed her face against Daddy’s shirt. “What’s wrong, duck?” He asked her, his tone gentle. “Ye don’t want to be here?” 

“He scares me,” she said in response. She did her best to keep her voice down. She didn’t want to hear anything Dr. Fitzpatrick had to say. “Can we go? I’ll even eat my sandwich.”

Daddy nodded. “Yeah, we can head out to the waiting room,” he said. “I trust Siobhan to take care of your mummy.” 

“I trust her too,” she whispered. She did trust Siobhan. Siobhan wasn’t mean. “Bye, Mummy.” 

“Bye, sweetie,” Mummy called in response. She sounded happier than she’d been when she’d been talking to Daddy. Heather wondered what that was about.

Much to Heather’s relief, they soon left the dreaded examination room, and found themselves in the corridor. 

“Duck?” Daddy asked her, his tone hesitant. “D’you think ye can walk?” 

Heather made a discontented noise. She didn’t want to walk. She wanted Daddy to carry her. In his arms. Where she’d be safe. “Why?” 

“The gas and air hasn’t worn off all the way,” he told her. “I don’t want to drop ye.” 

She sighed. “Can we hold hands?” 

Daddy grinned at her. At least, Heather thought it was meant to be a grin. It was sort of lopsided. “Course we can hold hands. I love holding hands with ye.” 

“Fine,” Heather allowed, though with great reluctance. “You can put me down.” 

Heather didn’t want to be put down. Daddy’s arms made her feel relatively secure, even though she was terrified of being in the dental surgery, and terrified of Mummy being alone with Dr. Fitzpatrick. Without her watchful gaze, who knew what would happen to poor Mummy, or her tiger teeth? What if the dentist pulled them all and gave her fake tiger teeth, like Grandpa Jim? Heather didn’t think that was very fair. 

Then there was the consolation prize of holding Daddy’s hand. While Heather normally cherished being able to hold her mum or her dad’s hand, she felt that it was a poor substitute to being held in Daddy’s arms. First Mummy carrying her had been taken away, now Daddy was gone as an option as well? That wasn’t fair. 

“Is this because of my tiger teeth?” She demanded. Her stupid molars were still numb. She hated them. If her dumb tiger teeth were the cause of another loss of comfort, she would be quite cross.

Daddy glanced down at her. His hand was extended for her to hold. “Is what because of your tiger teeth?” 

She scowled. “You putting me down.” 

“No, it’s got nothing to do with them,” Daddy insisted. “I don’t know why you’d think that it would.” 

“You said Mummy couldn’t carry me!” Heather reminded him. How could Daddy have forgotten? He had forced Heather to settle for being carried up in his arms, even though he was vibrating with nerves, and seemed oblivious to her need for Mummy’s comforting presence. “Earlier, when we were downstairs. You said I was too big.”

“Oh,” Daddy mumbled. “Duck, that’s just because she’s pregnant.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Heather admitted. “I  _ know _ that she’s pregnant.”

“It doesn’t mean that you’re too big to be carried,” he told her. “Mummy just shouldn’t be lifting ye, because of the baby. One of the books that I’m reading--”

“I want to read them!” Heather interjected. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to learn about the baby and about what her mummy was going through. Why was she left in the dark? “With you. I want to read them with you.” 

“You want to read ‘em with me?” Daddy echoed. She nodded. “Well, y’know, duck, we can read them together, if that’s what ye really want.” 

Heather nodded. She wanted to know what was going on with her mummy and the baby. “Can we really?”

Daddy nodded. “Y’know that I like reading to you,” he told her, as he ruffled her hair. “It’s one of my favourite things to do.”

Heather loved when Daddy read to her. They got to cuddle up together with a stack of books. Sometimes Martha joined them. Heather didn’t know whether or not Martha understood what they were reading, but she quite enjoyed the dog’s company. 

“Can we read them when we get home?” Heather asked him, as she impulsively grabbed on to his hand. “Or do you think Mummy wants to get straight in the bath?” Heather was still annoyed that she couldn’t join them, but she wanted Mummy to enjoy her bath. “Do you think Mummy will let me see her tummy?”

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t,” Daddy told her. He squeezed her hand. “No, we’ll take our bath later, duckie. Don’t worry about it.”

Daddy hadn’t answered her question. “Can we read them?”

“I think Mummy wants us to look at the book she got about the dentist,” he said. “You know that.”

Heather scowled. “I don’t care. I don’t want to read about it.”

“Why not?” Daddy asked. “We’ll read it together, as a family, I thought you liked that.”

She shook her head. “I do! But not when it’s about the dentist. I told Mummy that I didn’t want her to get the book out, and she said she wouldn’t! She waited until I was distracted by my tiger book to slip it into the pile! I told her no. She ignored me!”

“That’s because she wants what’s best for you,” Daddy insisted. “Honest, Hettie. She wants you to be okay. That includes going to the dentist. I know you don’t want to. I know.”

Heather shuddered. “It isn’t fair. Everything looked so horrible.”

“The drill scared ye, didn’t it?” 

Heather nodded. “I don’t like that they have to use it on Mummy, or on you,” she whispered. “You don’t think that I have any boo boos, do you?” 

“No, duckie, I didn’t see any, just your molars, and your wobbly tooth.” He ruffled her hair. “Are ye still doing okay with them? Do you want some more of the gel?” 

Heather flushed. She hated her molars. She didn’t want Daddy bringing them up, because it was embarrassing. 

“No,” she insisted. “They’re fine. They don’t need more gel.” 

Daddy ruffled her hair. “If we go out to the waiting room, you’ll eat your sandwich?” 

Heather scowled at the offending item. “What if it makes me lose my tiger tooth?” She demanded. The tooth in question was barely wobbling. Heather still didn’t know if she wanted to risk it. Her poor tiger tooth! If it fell out, Dr. Fitzpatrick would probably criticise it. Or her. “You won’t make me show the dentist?” 

“Would you let Siobhan look at it?” Daddy asked her. “She’d be gentle, honest.” 

Heather contemplated Daddy’s request. She liked Siobhan. She trusted her, to an extent. She guessed she could let her look at her tiger teeth. 

“If you really want her to,” she said after a moment. “Only if it falls out though. I don’t want her looking at it if it’s still in there.” 

“I really don’t think it’s going to come out if you have your sandwich,” Daddy told her. “Why don’t we go out to the reception and sit down? Mummy’ll be okay. I promise.” 

Heather gave one last look at the door. Her lower lip wobbled. “You promise she’ll be okay?” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick had been perfectly pleasant when they’d run into him while they were getting Mummy’s flowers, but it seemed that his persona changed when he was in front of the chair. The difference between Siobhan and her father was stark, especially when it had come to how they’d treated her poor daddy and his boo boos. Heather had watched Siobhan work on Daddy with a guarded level of interest. She had explained her actions every step of the way, and praised Daddy for tolerating her touching his tiger teeth and tiger gums with the dreadful tools. She’d made him laugh, too. Heather liked when her daddy laughed. It made her feel happy.

Though Heather had done her best to appear asleep throughout the entirety of Dr. Fitzpatrick’s attack on Daddy’s tiger teeth with the horrible drill, the reality was that she did not sleep very soundly at all. Mummy and her moggy coat soothed Heather to an extent, but not to the extent that using her as a pillow normally did. She’d slept fretfully, hyper aware of the position of her thumb and the position of her mouth. She hadn’t wanted to suck her thumb near the dentist. The sound of the drill and Dr. Fitzpatrick’s line of questions, directed at poor Daddy, had permeated her brain. 

“I promise.” Daddy squeezed her hand. “Mummy’s tough, y’know. She’s been through so much, and she’s so strong. It’s only the dentist. She can handle him.” 

“What about Butterfly?” Heather questioned. “Mummy can keep her safe, right?”

Daddy nodded. “Mummy’s the best at keeping Butterfly safe,” he promised her. “She did a good job of keeping you safe, didn’t she?” 

“Mummy? Yeah, she keeps me safe, all the time. She’s the best mum.” 

“That started when you were in her, y’know. Like Butterfly is. Mummy did her best to take care of ye while you were inside of her, just like she’s doing her best to take care of Butterfly.” 

Heather nodded. What Daddy said made sense. “Okay.” she settled on. “I want to look at the fish!”

* * *

  
  
  


“How are you feeling?” Linda heard Siobhan ask, and she plastered what she hoped was a convincing smile upon her lips. She didn’t have any energy to do anything besides getting the examination and filling over with, and then go home, pick at some dinner, and take a nap. The fact that she was alone in the examination room with just the dentist and the hygienist did nothing to improve her mood. 

“I’m fine,” she answered, her tone rather evasive. “Just tired.” 

“Has it been a long day?” Siobhan asked her. She seemed to be genuinely concerned for Linda’s wellbeing. 

Linda let out a sigh. “Yes,” she admitted. “I wasn’t expecting to end up here.” 

“Well, we’ll get you out of here as soon as possible,” Siobhan assured her. “You don’t want to be in pain for your wedding tomorrow, do you?” 

Linda drew in a deep breath. She shook her head, and she cuddled Penny close. “No, I don’t want that,” she agreed. “We have a big day tomorrow, and I want to be able to enjoy myself.” 

“Why don’t you open up?” Siobhan suggested. “I’ll put this gel on your gums to help them feel better, and then we’ll start the examination.” 

The last time that Linda had gotten married, it had been under extreme duress. She hadn’t wanted to marry Mel, pregnant or not pregnant, but when her father had gotten wind of the fact that she wasn’t planning on marrying him, and was planning on raising Heather as a single mother, he had raised unholy hell, and threatened to cut her off. She had had some hope that Mel would have stuck around for Heather’s sake, if not hers, but that had quickly been dashed. While Lee had been irate at the thought of his daughter being a single mother, Mel was more than okay with it. She and the baby -- their daughter -- were simply impositions. 

When Mel had left them, she’d secretly been relieved, though she’d done her best to hide her gratitude, given that her father and brother had had to go to Africa to track him down, in order to have her divorce granted. She didn’t want to seem overly grateful to the man who had forced them to transverse the globe in search of him. 

Mel had wanted to study rocks, Linda had wanted to be Heather’s mother. 

“You must be excited,” Siobhan continued, as she placed a bib across Linda’s chest. “Are you going on holiday?” 

“Not right away, no,” she told her. “We’ve got to go to Paul’s father’s for Christmas,” she elaborated, “and then we’re back to here for Heather’s birthday and the record launch party. Then, we’ll be flying to New York to see some of my family. Not really a holiday, I don’t think. I don’t mind, though. I’m just happy that Paul and I are getting married.” 

For all of Linda’s talk about how she didn’t believe in the formality of marriage, she really did love Paul. She genuinely wanted to marry him, and she would have wanted to regardless of it being a legal requirement for Heather’s adoption. She could see a future with Paul. With Mel, she’d just been going through the motions.

The spectre of her missing father had cast a cloud over Heather from the moment that she’d realised that most people she knew had both mothers and fathers. Linda had done her best to try to explain to her that she was more than capable of having enough love for both parental roles, but Heather knew that she was different. She felt out of place. Sometimes, Linda regretted having moved back to New York, even though it was the only logical choice to have made. It had thrust her and Heather into a world where neither of them truly belonged.

Not to mention, Mel’s insistence that Paul only be allowed to adopt Heather if he and Linda were married really chafed on her. Mel hadn’t bothered to send Linda a cent of the support that their divorce agreement entitled her to, money that was meant to go towards their child, and he certainly never bothered to try to contact Heather. What gave him the right to demand anything? 

“He’s quite proud of the two of you,” Siobhan commented, drawing Linda out of her thoughts. “When I was doing his x-rays, he wouldn’t stop talking you and Heather up.” 

“Was he really?” In spite of the fact that she was fantasising about going down to Africa, Paul in tow, and demanding the money that Mel had neglected to give her for five years of Heather’s care, she smiled. It was nice to hear that Paul was bragging about her and Heather. “What did he say?” 

“He’s dead chuffed that you’ve made him a father,” Siobhan told her, as she held the mirror aloft in her hand, a tube of numbing gel in the other. “He kept talking about how excited he is to be Heather’s dad, and to make you his wife. I’ve never seen him like that.” Linda was flattered. “You must be excited for your wedding?” 

“Yeah, I’m very excited,” Linda agreed. She could hardly wait until they were married, and until she would officially be Mrs. McCartney. She knew that the institution of marriage was downright archaic, but she wanted to be Paul’s wife. She wanted him to be able to adopt Heather. “It’s tomorrow. It’s not going to to be very big, but we don’t want that, anyways.” She managed a smile. “Just the three of us and a couple of witnesses. My family’s all out in the New York, but Paul’s brother will be there.”

“They couldn’t fly out?” Siobhan asked. 

Linda shrugged. “No, it would have turned into an ordeal,” she admitted. “My father, he wouldn’t have been happy with our plans to just go down to the registry and sign a licence. He’s a very particular man. He would have wanted to make it a whole todo.” She sighed. “My brother’s the only one of us who’s willing to fly, anyways. My mum died in a plane crash, so my sisters aren’t very keen on it. I didn’t want to have to invite Monique and her sons.” She pursed her lips. 

“Who’s Monique?” 

“My stepmother.” Linda rolled her eyes. “I suppose that’s the term that you use when your father gets remarried, even if you’re old enough to be a mother to a child of your own.”

“Paul doesn’t like his stepmother either,” Siobhan commented. “He told me that he preferred my dad. Is Heather going to the wedding?” 

“She is,” Linda told her. “She’s going to be our flower girl.” 

“She must be excited.” 

Linda nodded. “Do you know how long this is going to be?” 

Though Linda didn’t want to, she reluctantly obliged. Paul had managed to make it through his examination and fillings without complaint, and she decided that she was more than capable of doing the same. She could tell that Siobhan was on edge as well. 

The numbing gel that Siobhan was applying to her gums made them feel weird. No wonder Heather had been rubbing her mouth. It was somewhat disconcerting. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she said with a shrug. “What about you?” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick had excused himself from the room after Paul and Heather had left, using the excuse of having to make some notes on Paul’s chart. Whether or not he was actually doing it, Linda didn’t know. She knew that his presence was unwelcome for Siobhan. 

“I’m fine,” Siobhan told her. “I’m sorry about my dad. I know he doesn’t have the friendliest presence. I was a bit surprised that Paul wanted Heather to see him. He probably doesn’t realise there are other dentists here.”

Linda had to agree with Siobhan’s assessment. Paul was a lovely person, but he had an unfortunate habit of putting his own feelings and opinions last on an ever changing -- yet long -- list. The fact that he had continued to see Dr. Fitzpatrick instead of asking to see another dentist in the dental surgery was simply par for the course. 

While Linda was certain that Dr. Fitzpatrick was a fully qualified dentist, and while she was sure that he had the best of intentions, she was equally certain that his bedside manner left much to be desired. Heather needed someone who didn’t treat a trip to the dentist as something that everyone was willing to suffer through, and she desperately hoped that Dr. Bertram would be the right fit for her. And for Paul. Linda could have dealt with Dr. Fitzpatrick for herself, but she didn’t want the dentist to be a miserable experience for everyone involved. 

Including poor Siobhan. Linda thought that she was doing a perfectly good job at her examination, but it was clear that her own father didn’t seem to think so. Linda thought that was ridiculous. Siobhan had come in on her day off to ensure that her father had a dental hygienist willing to work with Paul without complaint, and Linda felt the least that he could do was respect the effort that Siobhan was putting into her new patients. Dr. Fitzpatrick was reminding her of her father, and that definitely wasn’t a compliment. 

“You do have a cavity,” Siobhan told her, after chattering about how she could tell that Linda was someone who regularly brushed and flossed, but that she was in desperate need of a cleaning. Linda had neglected to go to the dentist before she had moved to England. After the disaster that had been Heather’s dental examination at Dalton, the mere suggestion of even Mummy going had left her tiger cub distraught. Eschewing her own needs for Heather’s was habit. “But it’s not very big. I promise. I can’t believe this is your first cavity,” she continued. ”To be honest, I’m a little jealous, I--”

“Are you done with the examination?” She heard Dr. Fitzpatrick demand. “I believe that it’s my turn with the patient. You may take your leave.” 

“I’m staying,” Siobhan insisted. “I told Paul and Heather I wouldn’t leave her alone while she had her tooth filled.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“You heard me,” Siobhan’s tone had an edge to it. “Just because you don’t recognise dental fear as a legitimate concept doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Do you want to have them back in here? Or would you rather have me?” 

Linda heard the dentist sigh, and she felt the need to interject. Linda didn’t care whether or not she was alone with the dentist or not, but it meant a great deal to Paul and Heather that she not be left alone, so it was important to her that Siobhan stay. “I want her to stay,” she told him. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

“Are you sure?” With the appearance of her father, Siobhan’s exuberance had dwindled. 

“Please,” Linda said. “I’d feel better?”

Siobhan took a seat in the chair that she’d recently vacated, and the dentist approached the chair. 

“When was the last time you went to the dentist?” Dr. Fitzpatrick asked her, and Linda told him an approximate date. While she had missed her last dental appointment, she wasn’t sure that it really made that much of a difference. Her dental issues had started in earnest after she’d fallen pregnant. 

Dr. Fitzpatrick let out a sigh. “I don’t understand why people like you treat dental examinations as suggestions. You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t have put it off.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “Your child is about to turn six, and she’s barely had a single examination? I’m surprised this is your first cavity.” 

“Dad!” Siobhan protested. “She’s American! Those things cost money!”

“Do you have any idea what it was like?” Linda demanded. She was already annoyed at the fact that she was having emergency dental work, now she had to listen to Dr. Fitzpatrick taking a page from the book of Lee Eastman, and start criticising her parenting skills. “Being a single mother?”

“Of course not--”

“I didn’t ask for my mother to die and leave me the majority of my inheritance in fine art. I couldn’t exactly stand on the street corner with a stack of paintings to save up the money to drag Heather to a dentist, in New York City! I didn’t have the luxury.” She drew in a deep breath. “Not to mention, it’s not like I’ve been pregnant for very long, and we’ve been out of the country. Should I have just gone to the vet Paul uses for his animals at the farm? I wasn’t made of money when I lived in New York, and I made the appointment for as soon as we came back from Scotland. The only reason we’re here now is because you took Paul’s claims that he was in Antarctica of all places at face value. You should have insisted that he come to the dental surgery sooner. Maybe then his filling wouldn’t have broken off. He’s not fully to blame for this, and I’m not to blame for my hormones ruining my teeth.” 

Linda was somewhat mortified by her outburst, but she felt it was entirely justified. 

“Dad, that’s enough,” Siobhan interjected, her tone firm. “You need to apologise”

Dr. Fitzpatrick stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“At the very least, about that Antarctica thing,” Siobhan elaborated. “I told you that Paul wasn’t in Antarctica, and you told me that you believed Peter Brown. She’s not wrong! You would have never let that slide before!”

“I...I didn’t realise,” Dr. Fitzpatrick muttered. His tone sounded somewhat chastened. “I’m sorry if I implied anything that I shouldn’t have.” 

“Right,” she sighed. “Why don’t we just get this over with? After tonight, we’ll be Dr. Bertram’s problem.”

* * *

  
  
  


Paul had left his jacket behind on the chair that he and Linda had been sat in, and he took its presence as an opportunity to reclaim his seat. He really had little desire to remain in the dental surgery, but Heather needed to eat. Heather had borrowed her mum’s coat, which was really his, and had burrowed in it. He thought she looked quite adorable. 

“Are ye a moggy and a tiger?” He asked her idly, as he brought a cigarette up to his lips. Though his mouth was numb due to the dental procedure, Paul had long since trained himself to smoke in his current state. “Come sit with me.” 

“You want to cuddle?” Heather asked him. 

“I’ve wanted to cuddle with ye since I got in that bloody chair,” he informed her, pleased when Heather abandoned the fishtanks she’d been admiring in order to cross the room. “Come up, duck.” He reached his arms out for her, and scooped her into his arms. A kiss on her cheek was quick to follow. “You like this coat, eh?” 

Heather nodded. “It smells like you,” she told him. She leaned back against his chest. “It makes me feel safe.” 

Paul knew that feeling safe was important to Heather. She had had to go through so many changes all at once, over a short period of time, and it had been quite nerve wracking for her. From moving countries to transferring schools, and leaving the only place she had ever really known, it was no wonder that Heather needed to feel extra security. For some reason, she had decided that it was important to get that from him. Linda had explained to him that that was because he was Heather’s father -- her feeling safe around him meant that she was accepting him and his role in her life -- and he had become overwhelmed by emotions. He’d vowed to do everything possibly to make Heather feel secure, and more importantly, loved. 

He loved Heather so much. He couldn’t wait for the baby to be born, so that she could finally be a big sister. He thought she’d be brilliant at it. 

He just hated that she didn’t see that part of herself. Paul thought she was brilliant and precious, even though she was growing up. He couldn’t wait to see what she was like as she got older. 

“So, when things smell like me, that makes you feel safe?” 

Heather curled closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Uh huh. I get so scared sometimes, Da. It makes me feel better.” She sighed. “Why is Dr. Fitzpatrick so mean?” 

“What are you talking about?” Paul asked her, as he swiped at his mouth. “He’s not mean.” 

She stared up at him. “Nuh uh. He was so mean to Siobhan. He doesn’t like her.” 

“That’s not true, duck, she’s his daughter,” he assured her. “Why wouldn’t he like his daughter?”

“John doesn’t like Julian,” Heather pointed out. “He wasn’t nice, anyways. He made fun of you and Mummy.” 

“Julian?” Paul asked. “No, he didn’t.” 

She shook her head. “The dentist. He’s not very nice. I like Siobhan. Not him. He seems so mean.” 

Paul thought about coming to Dr. Fitzpatrick’s defence. He didn’t think that the dentist was mean. Dr. Fitzpatrick didn’t much care for people who were afraid of the dentist and who didn’t attend regular appointments, so of course, he wasn’t going to be particularly nice to Paul. Paul knew that his fear of dentistry made him a pansy, no matter what anyone else said, and he deserved whatever treatment he got in response. He couldn’t bring himself to share those thoughts with Heather, though. He didn’t care how the dentist treated him, but he damn well cared about how he treated his family. 

“You’re not going to see him,” he reminded her. “Siobhan said that there’s a proper dentist in the surgery for children.” 

“I don’t want to see  _ any _ dentist,” she sighed. “My tiger teeth, they’re fine. The dentist will make fun of them.” 

Paul shook his head. “No they won’t, duckie,” he promised. “No one’s gonna make fun of you.” 

“She’ll tell me I have to stop sucking my thumb!” Heather exclaimed. “I don’t want to.”

Paul sighed. “Honey, you can’t keep sucking your thumb,” he attempted to reason with her. “I know that you like to, but your teeth are wobbly now. That means that you need to stop. I’m not trying to be mean to you. I know that you like to, and--”

She shook her head. “I don’t like to! I need to! It makes me feel better.” 

“I thought that we talked about this,” he frowned. “Remember? When I said that you could hold my hand instead?” 

“Not all the time,” she whispered. “Not when I’m scared.” 

“Yeah, when you’re scared. What are you scared of? Me?” 

She shook her head. “No, I’m not scared of you. You’re my daddy!” 

“Y’know, you can tell me what’s frightening you,” he whispered, and he shifted her on his lap so that she was facing him. “I promise, duck, whatever it is, I would help you. Mum and I, we’d help you.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “You’ve tried! They still won’t go away.” 

“Who won’t go away?” Paul didn’t know what Heather was talking about, but he knew that he wanted to fix it. He hated seeing that his little girl was at all distressed. If there was a cause to be found, he wanted to make it better. “Will you tell me?” 

After a moment, Heather nodded. She’d clenched her hands into fists. “The fans,” she whispered. “I know that it’s not your fault, that you’d make them go away if you could, but they’re there! All the time!”

“I haven’t been recognised at all with my beard, duck,” he pointed out. “Why do you think I’ve grown it out again?” It was nice not being recognised on the streets. Paul found it rather refreshing. He reckoned that he’d keep the beard. “You asked me to, remember?” 

“I know.” Heather’s gaze was downcast. “They know where we live, though. They write such mean things about me and Mummy on the fence. I don’t know what they say but Mummy gets so upset. She won’t let me play outside because they’re always there. Not that I want to play outside alone, but still.” She sniffled. “I just want them to go away.” 

Paul sighed. “Come here,” he said, and he beckoned her close for a hug. “It’s hard, isn’t it? All the adjusting that you’ve had to do since we first met?” Heather nodded, and she wrapped her arms around him. “You’ve done so well, princess, Mum and I are proud of you, and I’m proud of you for telling me what you just told me.” He kissed the top of her head. 

“No, you’re not,” Heather insisted. “I’m just causing trouble for you.” 

“No, if anyone’s causing trouble, it’s the fans,” he said. “They need to learn to back off. I’ll speak to them again. I don’t want them being rude to you and your mummy.” 

“Or to Princess Butterfly?” Heather asked him. Her tone was muffled by the fact that her face was pressed to his abdomen, but Paul understood what she was saying. “I don’t want the baby to be hurt by them. Or Mummy.” 

“I promise, I’ll protect them.” He crossed his heart. “Maybe we’ll think of moving out to the suburbs…” 

“Why?” Heather asked. “Because of me?” 

He shook his head. “No, duck, because I’m tired of ‘em. I just want to be left alone with you and Mum, and they seem incapable of grasping that I have a family now.”

“Me and Mummy?” 

“You and Mummy,” he confirmed. “And your little sibling. They’re my family too.” At the mention of her baby sibling, Heather shot him a wide grin. “You’re keen on the sprog?” 

“Uh huh.” Heather nodded. “She’s my sister.” 

“Your sister?” Paul asked. He tickled Heather’s tummy. She let out a squeal. “What if the baby’s a boy?” 

“Then he’ll be my brother,” she informed him. “I’m still keen.” She sighed. “Daddy? I’m hungry.”

“Well, we’ve got your sandwich here,” he reminded her. “Do you think you can eat it? Mummy packed it special for you.” 

She sighed. “I guess.” 

“Will you show me your wobbly tiger tooth, after?” 

Heather took a bite out of her sandwich. “I don’t want to. I want to see yours.” 

* * *

  
  


Heather really didn’t want to see Daddy’s tiger teeth, but there was no way he was going to see hers. Not after he was watching her eat so intently, like she was Mummy. Or like he was actually a tiger, looking jealously at a snack. Mummy had made Heather the sandwich, and Heather didn’t want her to cry, so she was tolerating the request that she eat it. That didn’t mean that she wanted to be stared at like she was on display at the zoo. 

“What are you looking at?” She demanded, once she swallowed the bite she’d taken off. “Why are you watching me eat?” 

“Can’t I just look at my baby girl?” Daddy gazed at her with softened eyes. 

“I guess,” she muttered. “Do you want the rest?” 

“I wish I could eat it, duck, but I can’t,” he sighed. “My tiger teeth, they’re still feeling funny because of the procedure. You’ll have to finish it.” 

Heather frowned at Daddy’s admittance. How could his tiger teeth still be feeling funny? Didn’t Dr. Fitzpatrick fix him? How come he couldn’t eat? 

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, duck?” 

“Why are your tiger teeth still feeling funny?” Heather questioned. Her eyes were wide. She shifted so that she was on her knees, not caring that her attempts to examine his tiger teeth put hers at eye level to him. “Did the dentist hurt you? Did he do bad things to you?” She took another bite of her sandwich. “Are you sure you can’t eat?” 

“No, he’s not done anything bad,” Daddy said, in an assuring tone. “My tiger teeth are still numb, that’s all. I’ll be okay.” He swiped his hand over his mouth. “I’d love to duck, but I don’t think it’d end well.”

Heather sighed. “That’s not very nice of the dentist,” she told him. “Daddy?” 

“Yeah, duck?” 

“Why do you have those pictures of me and Mummy on the table by your bed?” She eyed him quizzically. “The ones that Uncle John took of me and Mummy when she’d just had me, and I was so teeny tiny?” 

It didn’t make sense to Heather why that would be something that Daddy would want on display. He was her dad, yes, but he hadn’t been there when she was born. Uncle John had been the only one who had visited Mummy and her in the hospital. Heather had listened in on them talking about it once, before they’d moved to London. 

“You don’t like me having them up?” He asked her. “You’re my daughter, Heather, and Mummy’s my wife. I’m glad that your uncle took those photos because it means that I can feel like I was there...that you and Mummy weren’t alone.” 

Heather wrinkled her nose. “We weren’t alone, though. Uncle John came to visit us. Mummy told me that he came to visit a lot when we lived in Arizona. He brought Auntie Jodie, too, once they were married. I don’t remember, but I think it’s the truth. Mummy wouldn’t lie about that, even though I don’t understand why he’d go on a plane all the time to visit us.” 

“Because he loves you, and he loves your mummy,” Daddy reminded her. “Look, how do you feel about the pictures?” 

“Being on display?” Heather asked. “Is that what you mean?” 

He nodded. “They’re of you, so if you really don’t want them on me bedside table, I understand. I just thought that when the baby was born, theirs would go right beside yours.”

“Okay,” she agreed. She snuggled closer to him. “That would be nice.” 

“You mean it?” 

“You’re our daddy,” she said. It was simple to her. “If you want the pictures on your table, you should be able to have them.” 

Daddy kissed the top of her head. Heather grinned. “I’m quite proud of you, and your mummy, y’know? It couldn’t have been easy, being a single mummy, but she did such a good job with you. She made sure that you had a good life. She brought you back to New York so you could be closer to your family.” 

Heather nodded. “I know. Mummy loves me so much.” She glanced up at him. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much, too.” 

  
  


Heather sighed. “I don’t want to go back into the room.” She had finished her sandwich. 

“We don’t have to, if you really don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “I really don’t want to.” 

“I was thinking,” Daddy mused, as he idly plaited her hair. Heather loved when he braided it. He did it whenever she asked, and sometimes when she didn’t. “We ought to look at the decorations like we planned earlier? Would you like that?” 

“They’re so pretty!” Heather chirped. “The ones we saw, at least. Can we go see them?” 

Daddy nodded. “We can,” he confirmed. “I reckon we can get some soup for us, maybe, for supper? Mummy’ll be starved, I reckon.” 

Heather sighed. Poor Mummy. She didn’t think that Mummy wanted to have soup for supper.

“Can I wear the moggy coat?” 

“Yeah, if you want to,” he told her. Heather nodded. “It’s like a dress on ye.” 

“I know,” she whispered. “But it’s so warm, and it smells like you and Mummy.” 

Daddy ruffled her hair. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I said I was fine,” she repeated. Heather wasn’t fine, and she knew that Daddy knew that. But she still had to try to convince him that she was. What if Mummy said Daddy wasn’t going to adopt her anymore because she’d gotten upset? Heather had finally had the chance to get a dad, and she didn’t want it to go away. “Tell Butterfly whatever you want.” 
> 
> “I just don’t think that you should be ashamed, that’s all,” Daddy told her, and she afforded him a brief glance before she returned her gaze to her lap. The ring that they’d gotten at the jeweller when he’d gotten his ring and Mummy’s glittered in the light. Daddy had told her that he’d gotten it because he wasn’t only marrying Mummy, he was gaining a daughter. “You’re my kid, Heather, it’s as simple as that. I know that it’s hard for you, but can you tell me why? Did something happen?” 
> 
> She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “You’ll get angry.” 

Paul watched as Heather skipped down the stairs that led out of the dental surgery. The coat that he’d bought when he’d went to Austria billowed out like it was a rather fancy cape, but if Heather wanted to wear it, he wasn’t going to stop her. Heather was growing up, whether he wanted her to or not. She’d already grown a couple inches since they’d first met. He didn’t mind, really. He liked being able to watch her grow up. Heather was quite sensitive about it. 

“Come on, Da,” she beckoned. Paul’s ears perked up at the near-lack of an accent. He wondered if Heather had noticed that the London accent she’d been trying to cultivate had come to a natural fruition, or if it had happened so gradually that she hadn’t noticed. Paul hadn’t cared that she’d sounded like a Yank. He knew that she and Linda were from New York, after all, and he loved every bit of that, and them. He knew that her lack of an accent had been a particular bone of contention for her, however, and he was pleased that she had developed one. “Da!” She continued. “I want to go outside and look at the fairy lights.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he insisted, and he stuck his cigarette in his mouth, lighting it as he walked down the stairs. “You know that I’m old, duck,” he teased. “You’re much faster at things than me.” 

“You’re  _ not _ old!” Heather insisted. She shot him a wide grin. “You’re younger than Mummy!”

“Not by much!” Paul protested. “Only a few months, y’know. You’re still younger than me!”

Paul had caught up to Heather, and he scooped her up into his arms. The affects of the gas and air had worn off for the most part, and he felt confident in his ability to carry her. Heather giggled. 

“Of course I’m younger than you, silly,” she giggled. “I’m your daughter. That’s how it works, right?” 

“You’re quite smart, y’know that, right?” He removed the cigarette from his mouth, and kissed her on the forehead. “Tell me, are you looking forward to your birthday?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, Mummy told me that we’re going to have cake, and whatever takeaway I want,” she informed him. “She might let me stay awake until happy new year time.” 

“Have you done that before?”

She shook her head. “No, Mummy’s said I’ve been too little.” 

“Well, I’d be glad to stay awake until happy new year time with you and Mummy,” he promised. “I reckon that we’d have to take a kip in order to do that.” 

Heather yawned. “Can we take a kip when we go home? The four of us?” 

“Are ye a tired tiger cub?” Paul ran his hand down her back. He took a drag of the cigarette. “We can do whatever ye want.” 

“The drill was too loud,” she whispered. “I couldn’t sleep through it.” 

“I know it was,” he admitted. He worried his lower lip. “Tell ye what? How about we stop by the candy shop and get you something to eat?” 

“Candy?” Heather echoed. “Won’t Dr. Fitzpatrick yell at you?” 

“Oh, let him yell. I can handle it.” 

Paul desperately wanted to cheer Heather up. His little girl had gone through so many changes over the course of her life, and he knew that she’d done the best to take them in her stride. That still didn’t mean that she didn’t have fears that needed to be supported, and acknowledged. He couldn’t blame her for being scared of the dentist. He himself was terrified, and he was an adult. He couldn’t fault Heather for being scared. 

Heather nuzzled his cheek. “Your beard’s tickly,” she told him. “Are you going to keep it?” 

“I reckon so,” he said. “Mummy likes it, y’know.”

“So do I.” Heather patted his cheek. “Daddy?” 

“Yeah, duck?” 

“Why are you smoking your cigarette with the wrong hand?”

“I can’t feel the side of me mouth,” he admitted. “I didn’t know that you noticed those things, duck.” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, you and Mummy both smoke with your right hands. I notice lotsa stuff, Da.” 

“You’re brilliant,” he whispered. He kissed her on the lips. “The most brilliant daughter a bloke could ever ask for.” 

“You really think I’m brilliant?” 

“Yeah, I really do,” he assured her. He nuzzled her nose. “I love you, Heather. I’m so honoured to be your dad.” 

“You’re honoured?” Heather echoed, confusion evident in her tone. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that I’m quite pleased to be your father,” he said. “Being your dad is a privilege, y’know? Mummy’s trusting me to do a good job as your father, and I don’t want to make her regret that trust.” 

“You do do a good job,” she told him. “Mummy thinks so, too.” 

Paul really hoped so. He had no delusions that Linda agreed with Heather. “Does your mummy?” 

“Uh huh,” she whispered. “She asked me, before we moved to England, if I wanted to go. She told me that it was my choice, that you and Mummy wanted me to be happy. I wanted to go home with you. Even though it meant flying on a plane.” She sighed. “Mummy told me that the two of you wanted us to be a family. That you wanted to be my dad.” 

Paul had known that Linda had had this conversation with Heather. Heather hadn’t wanted to talk about it before now, and he was surprised that she wanted to. 

“Mummy told me that she was going to talk to you about England, and me being your dad, and us being a family,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to force ye to talk about what you talked about if you weren’t ready.” 

“I was upset at first. I didn’t know why you’d want to be my dad. My old dad...he left me, and Mummy. I didn’t want you to leave too.” 

“I’m never going to leave,” he promised her. It was a promise that Paul felt that he could keep. Adoption was a commitment to Heather, making her his, and he would honour that commitment for the rest of their lives. “You know that, right?” 

She nodded. “Duh, Daddy, of course I know that. That’s why you asked me if you could adopt me.” She grinned at him. “You still want to, right?” 

“Of course I still want to.” He tickled her side with his free hand, pleased when she giggled. “Are you excited for tomorrow?” 

“Uh huh,” Heather chirped, and she let out a loud squeal as he tickled her once more. “Da!”

He grinned down at her. “I’m excited too,” he told her. “Making Mummy my wife, making you our daughter.”

“Don’t forget Butterfly,” she insisted. “Do you think she’ll kick?” 

“I reckon she’s still too little,” he told her. Heather’s smile dimmed. “Oh, duck. Don’t get upset. Mummy’ll let us know when Butterfly kicks, and the baby, they’ll still be there. Whether they kick or not, they’re inside of your mummy. If you ask me, I reckon her tummy will be on display. Butterfly will be in the photographs.” 

Heather grinned. “Mummy’s Butterfly Belly is so cute,” she gushed. “I don’t know where it came from! It just showed up! Do you know why?”

“Butterfly needed to do an expansion on her digs,” he explained. Heather was listening intently to him. “That’s what babies do, y’know? They get bigger. Because Butterfly is inside of your mummy, your mummy gets to grow along with her.”

“Will Mummy get even bigger???”

Paul nodded. “The bigger the baby gets, the bigger your mum will get. The same thing happened when she was pregnant with you.” 

“I know!” Heather informed him. “Mummy’s shown me pictures,” she added. “Did you want to look at them together?” Heather’s gaze was downright bashful. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, Daddy. I understand.” 

“No, duck, of course I do,” he assured her. “Why’d’you think I wouldn’t? Because I wasn’t there?” 

She nodded. “You weren’t there,” she sighed. “And, that’s okay, because you’re here now.” Paul didn’t know if Heather truly believed that, but he thought it was nice of her to pretend. “But you still weren’t there when Mummy was pregnant with me. I didn’t know if you’d want to look at them because you missed it.” 

They had finally left the dreadful office building that contained the dental surgery, and Paul held Heather carefully in his arms as they stepped onto the high street. While Paul had been getting tormented at the dental surgery, the rest of society had had the nerve to go about their lives. The street was teeming with holiday shoppers, and people who were coming and going from the various restaurants. The candy shop was up the road a bit, and Paul considered having Heather walk the distance, but he could tell that she was in need of some extra special care. Holding her in his arms it was. 

“I want to look at the pictures with you,” he promised her. “With you and Mummy. If you want, we can put some of them up.” 

“Like on display?” Heather stifled a yawn. “Why do you want to do that?” 

“Because,” he told her. “You’re my kid. I hate that I missed all of it, but the photos, they help me feel better. It’s important to me.” 

It was important to Paul. He knew that it wouldn’t make up for the years that he’d missed in Heather’s life, but if it made things even the slightest bit easier to deal with for her, he was more than happy to help. Even if Heather didn’t care about the photographs, their existence meant a lot to him. 

“We can look at them when we get home?” Heather suggested to him, her eyes bright. “Will you?”

“Just the two of us?”

She shook her head. “No, Mummy and Butterfly, too. I know Butterfly doesn’t know what’s going on,” she added. “But she and Mummy do _ everything _ together.” 

“Yeah, they do,” he agreed. He grinned down at her. “Is my face still funny?” 

Heather giggled. “Uh huh, it still is.” 

“Well, the important thing is that I can carry ye,” he told her, and he nuzzled her hair. “I don’t care what my face looks like as long as I can do that.” 

“But it will get back to normal, right?” Heather asked him. “You won’t have a silly face forever?” 

“Yeah, it will get back to normal,” he promised her. “You’ve been such a good girl today. I’m sorry that we had to come here.” 

Heather shrugged. “You needed your boo boo fixed. Butterfly is being so bad, though. Why would she do that to Mummy’s tiger teeth?” He felt her shudder. “She made her tiger gums so red and angry, and now she’s made her have a boo boo too? That isn’t fair. I know that I made her tiger gums look like that when I was in there, but I didn’t ruin her teeth.” She scowled. 

“Aw, come off it,” Paul told her. “The baby’s not doing that on purpose, y’know?”

Heather drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, I know,” she admitted. “I just...I don’t like that she has to be in the room with Dr. Fitzpatrick.” 

“I know that you don’t.” He squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how frightening he’d seem.” 

“Do you think that she’ll be okay?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, she’ll be fine, I promise.” 

“Why were you watching me eat earlier?” 

Paul had the sense not to tell Heather that she had been chewing rather oddly, having rationalised it as being due to the fact that her gums had been numbed. He knew that it would only upset her, anyways. 

“I was jealous,” he lied. “I wanted to eat the sandwich, but my tiger teeth wouldn’t let me, so I wanted to watch you eat it instead.” 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Heather asked him. “We could have gotten soup to eat, like we’re getting Mummy.” 

“Oh, y’know, I didn’t want to be a bother.” 

“I don’t like to be a bother either,” she readily admitted. Paul frowned. “What?” 

“You’re not a bother,” he insisted. “You’re five!”

“I’m almost six,” she pointed out. “Are you sure I’m not?” 

“I’m sure,” he promised. “You don’t have to worry about that.” 

They had almost neared the candy shop. “Daddy?” Heather asked him. “Do you think Penny’s okay? I don’t want the dentist to hurt her.” 

“I don’t think the dentist would hurt Penny,” Paul told her. He shook his head. “Do you really think that Dr. Fitzpatrick is horrible?” 

Heather nodded. “He was mean to you,” she insisted. “You were so brave, and he said horrid things. Not just to you,” she added. “To Siobhan. Just because she works for him doesn’t mean that she’s a bad person. He could have been nicer. You’re nice to me.” 

“I’m your daddy,” he whispered. “Of course, I’m nice to you.” 

“Dr. Fitzpatrick is her daddy,” Heather reminded him. Paul had honestly forgotten. He had long since separated Siobhan and the dreadful dentist in his mind. He liked one of them. The other he forced himself to tolerate. “Shouldn’t he be nice to her too?” 

“You’re probably not wrong,” he sighed. “Did you like her?” 

Heather nodded. She shot him a smile. “She was nice to me, and she promised that she’d stay with Mummy while the dentist ruined her tiger teeth.” 

“Aw, duck, Mummy’s tiger teeth aren’t going to be ruined. She’s only going to have a cavity filled, just like me. I can show you, if ye want.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Heather whispered. “I don’t want to have to show you my tiger teeth again.” 

“You’ve got such a pretty smile, though. You won’t smile for me?” 

“That’s different,” she insisted. “That doesn’t mean I’m showing them to you.” She sighed. “It’s not fair, Da. My tiger teeth were so pretty, and now they’re not going to be.” 

“Why’d’you say that?” Paul asked her. “Cause they’re wobbly?” 

“No! Because I’m going to lose them!”

“That’s because you’re a cub,” he told her. “Remember how the kittens are going to lose their teeth?” 

“Yes!” She insisted. “They’re going to get bigger, and get moggy teeth like their mummy.” 

“That’s right,” Paul said cheerily. “You’re going to get grown up tiger teeth like your mummy.”

“Oh,” she mumbled. “I didn’t realise. I guess that’s okay. As long as they’re like Mummy’s. And not…” 

“And not?” Paul echoed, in what he hoped was an encouraging tone.

“Not like his!” Heather exclaimed. “Dad, I don’t want my tiger teeth to be like his. I want them to be like Mummy’s! Or yours! Not like someone who didn’t even want Mummy to have me!”

“Heather, darling--”

“He didn’t want me,” she whispered. “Did he?” 

“People aren’t always ready to be parents, Hettie,” Paul insisted. He could see the tears that had formed in Heather’s eyes, and he changed course from heading into the candy shop to sitting on the bench outside of it. He didn’t think that Heather wanted to cry in mixed company. “Sometimes, not being selfish and letting someone else be the parent they couldn’t be is the best that they can do.” 

“I don’t want to look like him,” she whimpered. She clenched her hands into fists. “If I look like him, Butterfly will know.” 

“Know what, duckie?” Paul smoothed back her hair. “What’re ye talking about?” 

“I don’t want Butterfly to know that I’m different.” She sniffled. “I mean, why do they have to know?”

“Being adopted isn’t anything to be ashamed of,” he promised her. “Don’t you think that I wish that there was a chance I could tell you that you wouldn’t look like him? I can’t promise you that, but, I can promise that I don’t care.” He ran his hand down her back. “Butterfly won’t care either, because it won’t matter to them. Mummy and I, we’ll explain it when Butterfly’s little, y’know? It won’t be a big deal. It’s just how you’ve become mine.” 

“Yours?” Heather echoed. 

He nodded. “Yeah, you’re mine, duck. I promise ye.” He cleared his throat. “Can I tell Mummy about this?” 

“No!” She protested. “She’ll be sad, Daddy, and I don’t want her to be. It’s a stupid thing to be upset about.” 

“It’s not stupid, Heather, you’re allowed to have feelings.”

She shook her head. “You want to tell Butterfly that you adopted me,” she said, her tone firm. “I said that was fine. I thought it wasn’t a big deal.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” he promised. “I just...Mummy would want to know why you’re upset, Hettie. So that we can try to make you feel better.” 

“I said I was fine.” 

“You’re not in trouble,” he added. “Heather, don’t you think you’ll feel better if Mummy knows?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Heather shook her head. She regretted even telling her dad what she was thinking about in the first place, but it had just slipped out. She’d been halfway through confessing that she didn’t want to look anything like the man who’d helped Mummy have her when she even processed what she was saying, and by then, there had been no point in backtracking. Now he was talking about telling Mummy? Why did she have to know? 

“I said I was fine,” she repeated. Heather wasn’t fine, and she knew that Daddy knew that. But she still had to try to convince him that she was. What if Mummy said Daddy wasn’t going to adopt her anymore because she’d gotten upset? Heather had finally had the chance to get a dad, and she didn’t want it to go away. “Tell Butterfly whatever you want.” 

Butterfly wouldn’t love Heather anymore if she knew that Heather had originally had a different dad. Never mind that Heather had never even met the first father she’d had, and certainly couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd, it was something that made her different, and she hated it. Uncle George had said all of those awful things about how he wouldn’t have considered an adoptive child to be his real child, and he’d known Heather was there. She’d heard him! Even though he’d added that bit about Daddy being different, she suspected that had only been because she’d looked like she’d wanted to cry. He hadn’t meant it. 

“I just don’t think that you should be ashamed, that’s all,” Daddy told her, and she afforded him a brief glance before she returned her gaze to her lap. The ring that they’d gotten at the jeweller when he’d gotten his ring and Mummy’s glittered in the light. Daddy had told her that he’d gotten it because he wasn’t only marrying Mummy, he was gaining a daughter. “You’re my kid, Heather, it’s as simple as that. I know that it’s hard for you, but can you tell me why? Did something happen?” 

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “You’ll get angry.” 

“I won’t get angry at you, I promise.” 

“It doesn’t matter!” 

“Of course it matters, you’re upset--”

“You won’t get angry at me, but you’ll still get angry,” she informed him. “I don’t want you to get angry at him again.” 

“Are you talking about John?” Daddy asked. She shook her head. “Heather. I don’t want you lying to me to protect him.” 

“No, it wasn’t John,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t lie to you to protect him.” 

“Was it Ringo?” 

She shook her head. “No, I like Uncle Ringo. He’s nice to me.” Heather let out a sigh. “I guess I can tell you.” 

“Please, Heather?” Daddy asked, and he wrapped his arm around her. Heather snuggled closer to him. Even though they were both wearing coats, Daddy gave the best hugs. “I won’t get angry at you.” 

“It was Uncle George,” she said after a moment. Her reluctance was evident in her tone. “He and Auntie Pattie, they were fighting. When you asked them to watch me because Mummy was getting sick. Butterfly was growing in her, but you didn’t know she was there.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“Because!” Heather retorted. “Mummy wasn’t feeling well. She got sick up everywhere! She wanted to go home. We were going to Scotland, anyways. What did it matter?” 

“It matters because it upset you,” Daddy insisted. “I understand why you didn’t tell us when we were there,” he added. Heather watched him scrub his hand across his face. “I just...were you planning on keeping it to yourself forever?” 

“I wanted to forget about it,” she whispered. “It’s not true, and I know that, so why did it hurt so much?” 

Daddy tugged her closer to him. “It was a horrible thing to say, and he shouldn’t have said it, regardless of the fact that you were there.” He sighed. “It hurt you because it was mean. He was being a wanker, and not just to you, but to Pattie.” Heather nodded into his side. She heard the click of a lighter, followed by the familiar scent of Daddy’s cigarette. It made her feel better. “I didn’t leave you with George so that he would say hurtful things to you, or that could’ve been construed as about you. If I had known that he felt that way, duck, I’d have never left you alone with him.” 

“He said that he wouldn’t love a baby that he adopted as much as a real baby,” she continued. Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his jacket. She didn’t care. “That they’d be different to him. Why would they be different?” Heather was very confused. “I’m real, aren’t I?” 

“Of course you’re real, Hettie,” he assured her, his fingers idly stroking her hair. “You’re not any different to me than your brother or sister would be.” 

“And you’d want to adopt me if I was the only one?” 

“Of course, duck,” he whispered. “You’re quite special to me, and your mummy. I’d always want to adopt you.” 

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “So much.” 

“I love you so much, too.” 

Heather knew that Daddy did. That was why she loved him.

* * *

  
  


Dr. Fitzpatrick’s comments had hurt Linda deeply. She had tried her best to be a good mother to Heather, and it was true that she had fallen short of that mark. She didn’t need someone who was virtually a stranger telling her that. No wonder Heather didn’t want to go to the dentist. The students at Columbia had been perfectly pleasant to her. The only dentist who hadn’t been had been that horrible dentist her father used. She wasn’t keen on being insulted again. 

“I’ll get started on your examination--”

“No,” she interjected. “I don’t want an examination from you. After what you said? If I wasn’t in so much pain because of this stupid cavity, I would be out that door. How dare you say those things about me? You have no idea what I’ve been through. I won’t apologise for needing to make priorities as a mother.” 

“Paul didn’t complain about his examination--”   
  


“Siobhan did Paul’s examination!” Linda exclaimed, unable to hide her irritation. “He was also under the influence of gas and air, in case you’ve forgotten. You also didn’t spend quality time berating him for things you know nothing about. I highly doubt you’re a single father, and even if you were, you’re a dentist. I was a secretary for a magazine. You have no idea what that was like.” Linda scowled. She caressed the slight swell that contained little Butterfly, trying desperately to centre herself. She didn’t want to stress out the baby. “If you want me to have an exam, Siobhan can do it. Why don’t you just leave?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“I just need a moment,” she hissed, through gritted teeth. “That’s all.” 

“Fine,” Dr. Fitzpatrick said, in a tone that made it clear he thought otherwise. “I will be preparing Paul’s files to transfer to Dr. Bertram. Siobhan? Are you coming with me?” 

“No,” Linda informed him. “I want Siobhan to stay. Isn’t that why she came in? To make sure Paul’s family was comfortable?” 

She heard the clang of the tools being returned to their tray, and the harsh overhead light was shut off. 

Linda drew in a deep breath, and she exhaled loudly as the dentist exited the room. She knew that he’d be back sooner rather than later, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of the tears that were forming in her eyes actually falling. 

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” Siobhan asked her. “If you really want to be alone--”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered. “I just wanted him to be quiet. He has no idea how hard it was for me raise Heather alone, and he never will. Yes, I should have brought her to the dentist, but she needed to be fed, clothed, and had a place to sleep. Those things needed to be my priority.” 

Heather was gone, so Linda could admit that, even though admitting it was hard to raise Heather alone felt like a betrayal towards her little girl. Heather adored her Mummy. She didn’t want her to think that Mummy had had a hard time affording her. 

“Of course they were,” Siobhan soothed her. “What parent wouldn’t have prioritised them?” 

“I put Heather first. Before myself. Even now. Do you think I wanted Paul to leave? I’m terrified. Heather couldn’t stay here, though. It would have been unfair to her.” She shook her head. “I’m a terrible mother.” 

“No, you’re not,” Siobhan insisted. “You said it yourself. You were a single mum who was working a job that barely allowed ends to meet. Some things needed to be prioritised over others. You’re not a terrible mother. Heather adores you. She told me how much she loves you, and how excited she is to become a big sister.” 

Linda managed a ghost of a smile. “She’s very excited.” Heather already doted on her sister or brother. “We’re very excited.” Linda was definitely excited about the baby, and Paul’s adoration of ‘the sprog’ had been on display throughout the entirety of his appointment. To say that he was excited was probably an understatement. “I just hope that Heather isn’t too anxious about her appointment to enjoy the wedding.” 

“Do you want to postpone it?” Siobhan asked her. “Dad can fill your cavity and I can give you a fluoride treatment and a quick cleaning after, when Paul and Heather come back. I’ll even do it in the children’s examination room, so she can see what it’s like.” 

“We can postpone it?” Linda was exhausted. She had little desire to return to the dental surgery anytime soon. The thought of postponing what was sure to be an ordeal was appealing. “I thought we had to come in right away?”

“That was because of Paul,” she explained. “Dad wanted him in to assess his filling.”

Linda let out a groan. “Well, that problem has sorted itself,” she sighed. “I think postponement is a good idea.”

“How about I get you a drink of water?” 

Linda nodded. Siobhan crossed the room to the sink and filled up a glass of water, while Linda did her best to modulate her breathing and return to a semblance of sanity. The last thing she wanted to do was stress out little Butterfly. 

“Here you go,” Siobhan told her, as she raised her chair so that she could drink the water, and handed her the glass. “Take small sips. You don’t want to get sick.” 

Linda heeded her warning. “No, I’ve had enough of that,” she agreed.

“A lot of morning sickness?” 

She took a sip of water. “A fair bit,” she said. “Which is normal, of course, I had it with Heather, but I think that it did something to my teeth this time.” She sighed. “It’s mostly tapered off, though. I think the baby wanted to make her presence evident.” 

“Looks like she’s found another way to do that,” Siobhan said, and she gestured to Linda’s middle. “Paul seemed rather enamoured by that. He’s wanted to be a dad for a long time. I’m glad that he’s finally getting a chance to be.” 

“He loves Heather. He really treats her like she’s his own. He has since they met.” 

Siobhan smiled at her. “I know,” she said. “I can tell.”

Paul wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to little Heather, and Linda knew that he did. She found it rather endearing. She sighed. It was unfair that she was stuck in the dental surgery while Paul got to spend time with their little girl. Heather had been wanting to go see the Christmas displays since they’d returned from Scotland, and she would have gladly accompanied her. Instead, she was stuck getting a cavity filled. 

“I just want to get this over with,” she sighed. “It’s nothing against you, really, it’s--”

“My dad,” Siobhan said. “It’s okay. I understand.” 

“You do?” Linda asked. She nodded. “Why? What happened?” 

“He’s just...he cares deeply about people’s teeth, and he doesn’t exactly express that the right way. He thinks that if he’s capable of never getting fillings, everyone else should be. Including his children.”

“Maybe I can just...get it over with,” she mumbled, her tone rather despondent. “Will you stay with me the whole time?” 

“Of course I will,” she said. “I’ll even hold your hand. If you want.”    
  


She smiled at her. “That would be nice.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“D’you feel up to going into the candy shop?” Paul asked Heather idly, once she’d mostly calmed herself down. 

He was simmering with rage. How dare George say those things around his daughter? He knew how sensitive she was. Even if Heather hadn’t been sensitive, it was an incredibly inappropriate thing to say in general. Let alone with someone who was being adopted in the same room as him! Not to mention to his wife, who was clearly suffering from some sort of fertility issues. Paul thought the comments had been uncalled for, and he vowed to deal with them before the launch party. 

Paul felt a wave of dread wash over him as he thought about the launch party. He’d convinced himself that Heather wouldn’t care what type of party it was, but he feared that it meant more to her than he’d thought it would. Ringo had never thrown a launch party before. He probably shouldn’t have told him to do it on his own. 

“Uh huh,” Heather insisted, her eyes bright with excitement. “I want to get candy!”

“I know you do,” he told her. “Are ye still hungry?” 

Heather nodded. “Yeah, can I have candy for tea?” 

He shook his head. “No, duck. Tiger cubs need real food for tea. So they can grow big and strong. I was thinking that I’d take you for a pizza?” 

Paul knew that pizza was one of Heather’s favourite foods, and he wanted her to eat something more than sweets. Linda would have been cheesed off if Heather told her he’d let her get away with a dinner of chocolates and wine gums, and he couldn’t even blame her. It would have been irresponsible parenting. Besides, he was hoping to get another chance to watch Heather eat. There was something concerning about how she’d eaten the sandwich earlier. 

“But you won’t be able to eat it,” Heather frowned. “That’s so sad.” 

“It’s okay, darling, we’d be going to the little Italian place, they’ve got soup as well. I’ll have a bowl with ye, and we’ll get some for me and your mum to have at home.” 

Heather sized him up. “Okay,” she said, after a moment. “I’ll have a pizza. But I want to look at the candy first!”

“Of course, we’re going to look at the candy,” he promised her. He ruffled her hair. “Do you want me to carry ye, or can you walk?” 

“I can walk,” Heather said. She snuggled close to him. “Will you hold my hand?” 

“Yeah, duck, I can hold your hand. Are you warm enough?”

Heather nodded. Linda’s jacket dwarfed her form, and her tiger costume’s hood fell into her eyes, but if she was happy, so was he. He loved his little girl. He took her hand in his, and he squeezed her fingers tightly. 

Heather pushed open the door to the shop, clearly pleased to be in the candy store. He really couldn’t blame her. He was excited too. The small shop was lined with jars filled with treats, and there was something new wherever his eyes could turn. Paul was hungry, of course, and he felt his stomach grumble as he took in he sights of the sweets. Heather giggled at him.

“What’s so funny?” He asked her, a smile playing at his lips. “You think I’m funny?”

“Your tummy!” Heather squeaked. “It made a funny sound!”

Paul ruffled her hair. “That’s because I’m hungry, duckie. I’ll be okay after I get some soup in me.” 

Paul wanted the candy desperately, but he knew he had to set a good example for Heather. What would it look like if he insisted that she had something proper to eat while he gorged on sweets? It would have been unbecoming, and more than a bit hypocritical. Not to mention that Linda also wanted him to have regular meals and eat a balanced diet. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he was willing to indulge her. Perhaps he was meant to set a good example for his baby girl? 

“Do you think that Butterfly is okay in Mummy?” Heather asked him, her gaze fixated on the wine gums. “You don’t think the dentist is bothering her, do you?” 

“No, duck, I told you, Mummy does the best job of keeping little Butterfly safe. He or she’s quite content inside of your mum, y’know. I reckon they don’t even know what’s going on.” 

“I know that you told me,” she insisted. “I just wanted to make sure.” 

“You’re very sweet to be concerned about Mummy and the baby,” Paul told her, and he knelt down so he could be at her eye-level. “Mummy and the baby appreciate that so much, you know that, right?” Heather nodded. He brushed a kiss to her forehead. “I appreciate it too, y’know. I’m glad that you want to help out your mum.” 

“Of course I want to help out Mummy,” Heather insisted. “She’s having a baby, Da.”

“We’re making you a big sister,” he cooed. “Isn’t that brilliant?”

Heather nodded. “I love you, Daddy.”

“Yeah?” Heather nodded again. “I love you, too.” 

“Are you going to be a big sister?” The clerk behind the candy shop counter asked Heather, who eyed her shyly. 

“The best big sister,” she said after a moment. “I can’t wait.” 

“Is your mum having the baby now?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, Butterfly’s not big enough yet.” She sighed. “I wish Mummy was having the baby. She’s at the dentist’s.” 

“Mummy’ll be okay,” Paul promised her. “We’re going to get some candy to cheer her up, and then we’re going to get something to eat, and then we’ll go back to the dental surgery. I’m sure Mummy’ll be done by then.” 

“I’m sure she misses you. Are you dressed as a tiger?” 

Heather nodded. Paul felt her hold on his hand tighten. “I’m a tiger cub,” she whispered. Her voice was barely audible. 

“The best tiger cub in the world,” Paul whispered. He rubbed her back. “I’m sure that it won’t be long until Mummy’s done. Another hour, tops.” 

Heather stifled a yawn. “But, Daddy, I’m tired,” she whispered. 

“You can nap on me,” he offered. “After we eat. I’ll be okay to carry ye.” He squeezed her hand. “Why don’t we get ourselves sorted here, and then we’ll have our pizza?” 

“No,” she reminded him. “You’re having soup. Your tiger teeth are getting better.” 

“Right, duck, thank you for reminding me.” Paul hadn’t forgotten. He just wanted a slice of pizza. He was more than a bit jealous of Heather. “Are you sure I can’t have a slice? If I get a bowl of soup, too? You can watch me to make sure that I’m not upsetting me tiger teeth.” 

Paul thought this was a display of sheer brilliance on his part. He could convince Heather that she was essential to his enjoyment of dinner, and hopefully cause her to not realise that she was being watched as she ate. Heather seemed to be considering this. 

“Fine,” she said, after a rather pregnant pause. “I’ll watch you eat one slice of pizza. But you have to eat your soup, and you have to be careful of where your boo boos were. I don’t want you want to have do deal with the dentist again.” She shuddered. 

“I don’t either,” he readily admitted. “I’ll be good, honest.” He squeezed her shoulder. “What do ye want?”

After they had sorted themselves out at the candy shop, and bid the shopgirl farewell, Paul left the shop with a much lighter wallet, and Heather clutching a carrier bag that was laden with sweets. He, of course, was carrying Heather. He could tell that she was tired, but he wanted her to have something to eat. 

“We’ll have some pizza,” he told her, and he kissed her on the cheek. Heather smiled at him. “You’ll have some pizza,” he corrected himself. “I’ll have some soup.” He pulled a face at the thought. “Then you can take a nap if you want.” 

“Will you still read to me when we get home?” Heather asked him. “Please?” 

“Of course I will.” 

Heather sighed. “Can we eat back at the dental surgery? I don’t want to eat around the dentist, but I guess it would be okay if we ate in the reception.” She snuggled closer to him. “I want to be near Mummy.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” she whispered. “I don’t want her and Butterfly to be lonely. Maybe we won’t have to nap at all. Maybe they’ll be done when we get back with the food? I don’t want her to have to wait for us.” 

Paul had to admit that was a good point. He didn’t want Linda to be kept waiting for them to return, or Siobhan, for that matter. He would have gladly let Dr. Fitzpatrick wait for him for an eternity, but he didn’t want to be rude to either his wife-to-be or Siobhan. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “We’ll do an order for takeaway.” 

“Can we get Siobhan something?” Heather asked him. “She came into work on her day off for us.”

“I dunno, duck,” he said. “You really think that a slice of pizza’s enough to make up for that?” 

Heather shook her head. “I want her to come to the party.” 

“The birthday party?” Paul echoed. Heather nodded. “Okay, duck. I’ll ask her if she wants to go.” 

“It’s important,” she reminded him. “You promise that you’ll ask her?” 

“Yeah, I’ll ask her, if it means that much to you,” he promised. “You’re okay with Siobhan?” 

Heather nodded, and she looped her arms around his neck. He placed the order for takeaway, impulsively adding in an order of chips. He was starved. Even if he couldn’t feel half of his mouth, he wanted to try to eat them. Or Heather could eat them. They were soft. If her teeth were really bothering her, he’d at least have gotten her something to eat. 

“Would you like a soup as well?” He asked her. She nodded. “Okay, duck. We can all have soup.”

“I want my pizza, too,” she whispered. “Cheese.” 

“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “You’re getting your pizza.” 

“And Siobhan’s?” Heather prompted him. “Is she allowed to eat pizza?” 

“Siobhan’s a grown up, now,” Paul told her. “She’s more than allowed to.” If the purchase of a pizza for Siobhan annoyed her father, it was all the more reason for Paul to purchase it. “I ought to give her a few quid,” he mused. “I’ll write her a cheque.” 

“Do you have money in the bank?” Heather asked him. “Or is it just in your safe?” 

“I’ve got money in the bank,” he insisted. “Just not all of it.” 

Paul pulled more money out of his wallet in exchange for his takeaway order. Even though it greatly benefitted Heather that he was unrecognisable with his scruff, the drawback was that nobody bloody recognised him. Paul wouldn’t have cared, really, as he spent his days wishing he was normal, but there was one drawback he hadn’t anticipated. He was having to pay for everything! No one knew he was gracing them with the presence of a Beatle, and he was treated like a regular citizen. It was a bit odd. 

But it was worth it for Heather. He knew that she didn’t like the crowds that surrounded them when he was clean-shaven, and if having a beard meant that she would come out of her shell more, well, so be it. He’d part with a few quid here and there to make sure that Heather felt safe. She was his priority. 

“Can you really carry me and the takeaway order?” Heather questioned. 

“Sure I can,” he promised. “It’s not very far.” 

The dreaded building loomed in his field of sight. 

“How do we get back in?” Heather questioned, as he opened the door to the building’s entrance and approached an intercom. “Can we just go up?”

“No, we’ve got to press the button,” he explained to her. “Go on. You can do it.”

She shook her head. “I don't want to talk to him.”

“You won’t have to. I’ll do the talking. I just can’t reach.”

Heather, on the other hand, could reach, and she pressed the button, though only for a moment. She took her hand away from it as if it was on fire. 

The intercom crackled to life. “Dr. Fitzpatrick’s office,” Siobhan’s voice said. 

“I wanna talk to her,” Heather insisted. 

“Go on,” he said. “Say hullo.” 

“Siobhan,” Heather called. “Can you hear me? It’s me, Heather. I want to come back in.” 

“Is it just you?” Siobhan asked. “Have you left your father behind?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Heather shook her head, before she realised that Siobhan couldn’t see the gesture. “No! Da, he’s with me. We’re both downstairs.” 

“I’ll buzz you up,” she said. “I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing your mummy.”

Heather wanted to see Mummy quite desperately. She hoped that the dentist hadn’t been too horrible to her. “Is she okay? Mummy? Siobhan, is she okay?” 

“She’s fine,” Siobhan told her. “Her filling’s in the process of being prepared. I’ve been keeping her company.” 

Heather grinned. “What about Butterfly?” 

“The baby? It’s doing okay, too.” 

“Come on, cub,” Daddy interjected. His breath was hot against her neck. “We ought to let Siobhan go back to Mummy. She can buzz us up, and then we can ask her all the questions we want.” 

“Okay,” she told him, before returning her attention to the intercom. “You’ll watch Mummy, right?”

“Of course,” she promised. “You can just come right up.” 

The sound of the buzzer hurt Heather’s ears. 

“Put me down,” she requested of Daddy. 

“Put you down?” He echoed. “You don’t want me to carry you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I do! But you have so much stuff. I can walk so you don’t drop any of it.”

“Well, okay,” he told her. Daddy set the takeaway down and carefully lowered himself so that she could get to the floor. “You want to see Mummy, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Uh huh, and Butterfly. I want to make sure Dr. Fitzpatrick didn’t hurt them.” 

“I’m sure that they’re okay, darling.”

It was nice that Daddy was sure. Heather held no such delusions. Dr. Fitzpatrick was so mean. He’d made all those comments about the state of Daddy’s poor tiger teeth, and the sound of the drill had scared her. She was big and brave and she’d been terrified. How could little Butterfly have not been scared? Even if Mummy was protecting her. Or him. 

“How can you be sure?”

Daddy sighed. She watched him scrub his hand over his face. “I know that you aren’t keen on Dr. Fitzpatrick. I understand that. But I wouldn’t have gone to him if he wasn’t a competent dentist. He’s not very friendly, I’ll grant you that, but can you even tell the difference between my front teeth? Come ead, have a look.”

“No,” Heather said. Her tone was firm. 

“I’m not going to look at yours!” Daddy insisted. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

Heather was, but Mummy’s safety was paramount. “No, I don’t want Mummy to be alone with him. I know she’s not alone. That Siobhan is with her. But the dentist! He’s evil. He was so mean to you!”

“Siobhan won’t let him hurt Mummy—“

“I know she won’t!” Heather was frantic. “That doesn’t mean I want her with him without me.”

“I don’t understand what’s gotten ye so upset,” Daddy told her. “Siobhan’s been taking good care of your mummy, and—“

“I just want to see her!” Heather howled. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place! I was just scared of the noise!”

Much to Heather’s horror, she felt tears slip down her cheeks. Daddy had noticed too. 

“Duck—“

“Don’t ‘Duck’ me!” Heather headed up the staircase as if she was on a mission. She was. A mission to protect her mummy. “Leave me alone!”

“But, duckie, you’re crying—“

“Sod off!” Heather didn’t entirely know what it meant. She wanted Daddy to be quiet. “Leave me alone!”

“Heather Louise!” Daddy’s tone was harsh. “Where did you learn to speak like that? I don’t plan on bloody sodding off. You are my daughter and I want to make sure you’re okay!”

“I hate this,” she whispered. “I hate all of this.” 

“I know,” he told her. He sounded rather out of breath. Heather felt bad. “I know that you do. And I shouldn’t have yelled at ye earlier, when we were napping and ye were sucking your thumb.” 

“What?” Heather’s feelings had been hurt. She’d been soundly asleep thanks to the sounds of Daddy’s snores, and had been abruptly woken to him chastising her about something she hadn’t even meant to do. “I was bad though. I did a bad thing.” 

“You’re not bad,” he assured her. Heather glanced at him. Was he telling the truth? She felt like a bad girl sometimes. “You were sleeping. I think you did it because you felt comfortable with me. I shouldn’t have gotten cross with ye. I know that changing a habit, it takes time.”

Heather sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you to sod off,” she mumbled, as she instinctively wobbled her tooth. Stupid wobbly tooth. She didn’t want to touch it. “I was just upset. I want to see Mummy, not look at your tiger tooth.” She scrubbed the side of her face. “I mean, I do want to look at your tiger teeth,” she informed him. After subjecting Heather to an examination of her tiger teeth, and the horrible numbing gel that made her molars feel so strange, the least Daddy could do was allow her to see his tiger teeth. “But I want to see Mummy now. To hug her and say hi to baby Butterfly and to make sure she’s okay.” 

“I accept your apology, duck,” he said, his tone low. “I know that you want to see Mummy. We can go into the surgery and see her now, if you want.”

“Uh huh,” she insisted. “I want to.” 

She bravely opened the door and entered the dental surgery, paying little mind to the fish that she’d been so enamoured with. Heather was on a mission, and that mission was to see Mummy, even if she had to subject herself to both Dr. Fitzpatrick and the dreadful chair. 

With Daddy trailing behind her, carrying all of their things, Heather made a beeline to the room that Mummy was being tortured in. 

“Mummy!” She cried, rather frantically, as she burst into the room. “Are you okay?” 

The examination room seemed a thousand times more frightening to Heather than it had prior to her departure. The displays of teeth seemed even more forboding to her than they had before, and the posters looked like they were advertising horror movies. The dentist himself could be seen on Mummy’s other side, though he was at the very least not touching her. Heather knew that he would have to touch Mummy again and hurt her tiger teeth, but for the moment, at least, she could pretend that he wouldn’t. 

She bravely approached the examination chair. Siobhan was sat in the chair that Heather had previously sat on, and she noted with a slight level of satisfaction that she was holding Mummy’s hand. She had been afraid that Siobhan had only agreed to stay with Mummy and hold her hand in an attempt to get Heather to leave the room. It made her happy to see that she’d really done so.

Dr. Fitzpatrick made a noise of disapproval. Heather gave him a glare. He was the reason she couldn’t feel half her tiger teeth! The reason Daddy had stared at her while she ate. 

“I’m fine, Heather,” Mummy insisted. Heather knew she was lying. Who would be fine at the dentist? It was nice of Mummy to pretend. “Do you want to give me a hug?” 

Heather hesitated. Her baser instincts were telling her to run. Hugging Mummy was nice, and she usually enjoyed doing so, and insisting upon it at every opportunity. But at the dentist’s? When he was inches away from her? She shuddered at the prospect. Being on Daddy’s lap had tricked her into that horrible look at her cub teeth, which had led to their current state of numbness. At the same time, Mummy seemed like she needed a hug. She was holding Penny quite tightly. 

“As long as  _ he _ doesn’t go near my tiger cub teeth.” Heather wanted to hug Mummy, and give her and Butterfly a cuddle, but at what cost? “You promise he won’t, Siobhan?” 

Siobhan was sat in the chair that she and Mummy had sat on, and, as promised, she was holding Mummy’s hand. “Dad’s not going to examine you, Heather,” Siobhan promised her. “I might look at your tiger tooth picture with you later, if you’d like?” 

Heather contemplated this. “You won’t be mean to me?” 

“Of course not.” 

She hesitantly nodded. “Okay. We can look at it together.” She approached Mummy cautiously, not wanting to go too close to the dentist. “I missed you, Mummy.” 

“I missed you too,” Mummy said. Or at least, she tried to say it. Heather was unsure over whether or not she was aware of how her voice sounded. It sounded quite weird. “Why don’t you come give me a hug. I’m sure Dr. Fitzpatrick won’t mind if we take a moment to cuddle.” 

Heather chanced a glance at the dreadful man. The look on his face and the way that he clutched his horrible tools made it clear that he did indeed mind. Unfortunately for Dr. Fitzpatrick, Heather was in the mood to deliberately flout the dentist’s desires. A hug and a cuddle for Mummy it was. 

She climbed onto the horrible chair, taking great care not to knee little Butterfly in the process, and she settled down on Mummy. She gave her a kiss. 

“Uh, Heather,” Daddy interjected. “Don’t you reckon you ought to wait until after the dentist is done to hug your mum?” 

“I want to hug Mummy!” Heather informed him. “Mummy said that I could, and I don’t care what the dentist wants. He’s been hurting her. He made her mouth all funny looking and she can barely talk!” She rubbed the side of her mouth. “Mummy, are you going to be okay?” 

Mummy had released Siobhan’s hand and taken Heather’s in hers, and she snuggled closer to her. The chair had been fully reclined, and Mummy had leaned back as she’d taken Heather into her arms, clearly willing to give her tiger cub the cuddle that she deserved. Heather let out a content sigh, especially as Mummy tightened her arms around her. 

“Of course I am, sweetheart,” Mummy cooed. Heather felt her run her fingers through her hair. “How is my little tiger?”

“I’m tired,” she whispered. “And hungry. Daddy bought us a pizza! And one for Siobhan! And we bought soup for you. I don’t think Butterfly wants it but you need to eat.” 

“I’ll eat when we get home,” Mummy told her. Heather frowned. “I can’t eat now, Hettie, the dentist needs to apply my filling.” 

“He wants to ruin your tiger tooth,” Heather corrected. “Your tiger teeth were so pretty and white, and now look at them. Baby Butterfly is giving you boo boos that the dentist won’t let you ignore, and they’ve ruined your tiger gums.” She shifted in Mummy’s arms. “I think Butterfly ruined my tiger gums too.” 

“Why do you say that?” Mummy asked her. 

Heather opened her mouth as wide as possible. “Daddy saw them. They’re horrid! He called them molars. They hurt before but it was better than not feeling my tiger teeth!” 

“Heather, sweetie, the baby didn’t do that to you,” Mummy told her, in what Heather was sure was meant to be a soothing tone. The affect was somewhat marred by the fact that Mummy couldn’t form all of the words the right way, and with the fact that she received a sloppy kiss that would have been acceptable coming from Martha or Eddie, but was decidedly not acceptable coming from her mum. Stupid Dr. Fitzpatrick. He’d made Mummy’s kisses feel like kisses from the dogs. “Molars are something that’s normal for cubs your age.” 

“I don’t want them!” Heather insisted. “I don’t want to not be able to feel my mouth, Mum. He told me that it would help me!”

“The numbing gel is supposed to help you,” Dr. Fitzpatrick had the nerve to protest. Heather shut her mouth and leveled him with a glare. She didn’t care what the gel was supposed to do -- she knew that it had made it impossible for her to either feel the sides of her tiger gums or chew properly. “Please get off your mother so I can finish her procedure.” 

“No!” Heather insisted, her eyes wide with panic. She tightened her hold on her mum. “You want to hurt her! I don’t want you to!”

“Come on,” Daddy told her, and Heather felt him wrap his arms around her waist. She roared in protest. “Heather, get off of your mum.” 

“No!” 

“Come on, Heather, I don’t like it either,” he said, as he disengaged her hands from their hold on Mummy. She let out a moan of protest. “I know that you don’t want to.” 

“Why are you picking me up?!” Heather howled. The outrage was evident in her tone. “I said ‘no’, Dad!” 

It wasn’t fair. How could Daddy be on the dreadful dentist’s side? She thought he loved her. That he would have understood why she needed to be close to Mummy. Instead he had picked her up off of Mummy without even giving her the opportunity to say goodbye to her and the baby. The fact that Mummy had let him was a betrayal in itself. 

“Mummy will be okay,” he had the nerve to tell her. “Siobhan is going to stay with her, and we’re going to have our pizza. Trust me, we get the better end of the deal.” 

“How do you know?” Heather hissed. She wanted to be put down so she could go back to Mummy. “You’re lying.” 

“He’s not lying,” Siobhan insisted. Heather scowled at her. “I won’t leave your mum, I promise. I’ll hold her hand the whole time that my dad’s fixing her tiger tooth hole.” 

“You won’t let her get hurt?” 

“I won’t,” she promised. “What do you say to a pinky promise?” 

Heather wanted to reject the offer, but she couldn’t bring herself to say no to it. No one had ever pinky promised her before, and she supposed trusting that Siobhan had meant it was a necessary hazard towards accepting it. She extended her hand to Siobhan’s and they linked pinkies. 

“Okay,” she whispered. “Will you bring Mummy out when your dad’s done? I don’t want to see him again.” 

“Heather Louise!”

“Don’t ‘Heather Louise’ me,” Heather snapped. How could Mummy do that? She was only expressing her opinions. Hadn’t Mummy always told her what Heather thought was important? “You’re the one who lied to me! You said he wasn’t mean! He won’t even let us eat in here!”

“Please, Heather…” 

“NO!” 

“It’s okay, Heather,” Siobhan interjected. “You have some big feelings about the dentist, and it’s okay that you have them. Mummy’s been such a good patient, though. I’d hate for my dad to change his mind about letting her get a treasure from the chest.” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick mumbled something that Heather was sure was unkind, but she focused on Siobhan’s promise to let Mummy get something from the treasure chest.

“Can I show her the treasures?” 

“Of course you can,” Siobhan told her. “Brave tiger cubs who behave get an extra treasure as well.”

“Am I a brave tiger cub who behaves?” Heather snuffled. She peeked over at Siobhan over Daddy’s shoulder. “Or am I a bad cub who shouldn’t get any treasures at all?” 

“I think if you eat your pizza with your daddy, you’ll be a brave tiger cub who behaves. How does that sound?” 

Heather drew in a shuddering breath. “I can do that.” 

“I’ll come out with your mummy when she’s all sorted, okay?” 

Heather wanted to protest. Mummy was fine how she was -- Heather thought she was perfect -- and it upset her to hear that other people thought Mummy wasn’t fine, wasn’t okay. She loved her mummy. Stupid Butterfly with her tiger teeth ruining powers. Of course, Heather didn’t really think Butterfly was stupid, but she was cross with the baby. Heather hadn’t given Mummy a cavity! Siobhan wasn’t who Heather was angry with, anyways. That honour fell to Dr. F. The dentist was a dreadful man who deserved her using her tiger cub teeth on him, and she would have, had Daddy not had a tight hold on her. Heather wanted to get a treasure, yes, but protecting her mummy was paramount. 

“I guess,” she allowed. She pressed her cheek against Daddy’s chest. “You can if you want.”

“See?” Daddy had the nerve to say, as he picked up their takeaway. “Everything’s worked out.” 

Heather scowled, and she kicked her feet. Daddy didn’t acknowledge her actions as he carried her -- and the takeaway -- out of her examination room and down the hallway to the reception area. Even the fact that she was soon to see the fish was not enough to soothe Heather’s angst. 

Absolutely nothing had worked out, Heather thought to herself. Mummy was being left alone with Siobhan and the dentist, and Heather had been hoodwinked into eating her pizza. It wasn’t that Heather had suddenly developed a distaste for one of her her favourite foods, it was the fact that her tiger teeth had taken on minds of their own all of a sudden. It had been hard enough eating the sandwich that Mummy had made her. The numbness of her tiger gums had made chewing practically impossible, and her dumb wobbly tooth had made it hard to tear into the sandwich like a tiger would.

“What’s the matter?” Daddy asked her, his tone gentle. Heather felt him press a kiss to her hair. “Duck, is something wrong?” 

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” It was a lie. Daddy didn’t need to know. She would pretend she wasn’t bothered by her teeth. The last thing she wanted was attention on them at the dental surgery. 

“Are you sure? Do you want me to break your pizza up into pieces?” 

Heather hesitated, and then nodded. “I can’t feel my tiger gums. I can’t chew well.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Linda desperately wanted to go after Paul and Heather, but she knew that she needed to sit in the chair and get her filling over with. No matter how annoyed she was at the dentist. And she was furious. Dr. Fitzpatrick’s treatment of Paul and Heather -- and Linda, for that matter -- had been downright odious. She’d already yelled at him once, though, and she was hesitant to do it again. He would have deserved it, but she didn’t want to garner a reputation. She turned her head to her left so she could have a glimpse of Siobhan.

Siobhan had taken her hand in hers, and she tucked Penny under her arm. The stuffed animal that Heather treasured so much smelled like her, and Linda took comfort in the scent, and in the fact that Heather had trusted her beloved stuffed animal. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Siobhan promised. “It will be over soon, and then I can clean your teeth for you.”

Linda shook her head. “I want to be with Paul and Heather,” she whispered. Her tone was hoarse. 

“They can come back in here,” she offered. “I don’t mind.” 

“I don’t think Heather will want to come back in here,” she admitted. “She’s terrified of this room…”

“We can go into the children’s room,” Siobhan suggested. “She might find it friendlier. It will give her a taste of what she has to look forward to in a few weeks. I can even give her teeth a look if you want.”

“I don’t want to upset her,” she sighed. “She’ll be angry.” 

“You really need a cleaning,” Siobhan pointed out. “For your gums’ sake.”

Linda sighed. She really just wanted to go home.

“Come on,” Siobhan said softly. “Don’t you want to have the best smile you can have for your wedding?” 

“Of course, I do.”

Linda obligingly opened her mouth when the dentist approached with the filling, wanting more than anything to just get it over with. Siobhan started telling her about a story about her dog, who was a sheepdog, similar to Paul’s. Even though positioning the filling only took a few minutes, those minutes felt like an eternity to her. 

Dr. Fitzpatrick completed his work in silence. It was clear that he wanted to spend the least amount of further time with his patient, which was more than fine with Linda. She just hoped that Heather would have the patience to sit through her Mummy getting her tiger teeth cleaned. She also hoped that Paul had been able to get Heather to eat, even if it had been her soup instead of her tiger cub’s pizza. Proper nutrition was important to her. She didn’t want Heather to go hungry. 

“Why don’t I start the examination in here?” Siobhan offered, as her father explained that the filling was completed, after having her bite down on a piece of paper to assess her bite. “I could do the measurements of your gums and prod your teeth here, before we go out and reconnect with Paul and Heather.” 

“I don’t want to scare her,” Linda sighed. “You’d be willing to do them here?” 

Siobhan nodded. “I don’t want to scare her either,” she told her. Her sincerity was as evident in her tone now as it had been when Linda and Paul had telephoned the dental surgery to book in to have Heather seen for her first appointment. “I won’t use the prod on her teeth today,” she added. “I’ll just look at them, and brush them and floss them for her. Is that okay? Give them a polish?” 

She nodded. “That’s fine,” Linda told her. “I hope Heather will agree.” 

Linda was quite worried about her tiger cub. Her teeth were clearly bothering her, and the fact that Heather had admitted that her mouth was bothering her -- even going so far as to open her mouth in the same room as the dentist -- hadn’t exactly filled her with joy. It had filled her with dread. 

“Siobhan...how are Heather’s teeth?” Linda asked. “Does she have any cavities?” 

Siobhan gave her a soft smile. “No, she doesn’t have any,” she assured her. “She’s just growing some new teeth. I think that she’s in pain because her bottom molars are cutting into her gums. It’s really not anything to worry about. I promise. Are your gums still bothering you?” 

“My gums?” Linda echoed. She thought about lying, but she didn’t see the point in doing so. Since Siobhan was going to examine her teeth anyways, the effort that she was going to expend was more than she wanted to. “A bit,” she settled on.

“Do you want some more of the numbing gel?” 

Linda wanted to refuse the option, but she wanted the relief from the gel more than she had the energy to martyr without it. Even though she knew that her mouth being numb would freak Heather out. She didn’t want to upset her little tiger, but she needed to take the medication, whether she wanted to or not. 

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll take some.” 

Linda allowed Siobhan to apply the gel to her gums without much complaint, though it was mainly because she had little desire to feel the cleaning that awaited her. Part of her wanted to just tell her that they were going to be heading home, but she knew that she needed to have her teeth worked at. How could she have gotten a cavity? She’d never had one before. Not even when she’d had braces. 

Linda had a feeling that Heather was going to get stuck with braces as well, and she dreaded the thought. Heather was bound to be devastated at another difference between herself and Paul. Even though Paul loved Heather and treated her like she was his -- because, to Paul, she was, regardless of her biological father -- Heather was quite sensitive about her role in his life. 

She was drawn from her thoughts on Heather at the sight of the prod. Though she strove to pretend that she was okay with having a dental cleaning, and by all accounts, she was, the prod was another story. 

“Do you have to…?” 

Siobhan nodded, though she offered her an apologetic gaze. “ Because of your gums. My dad’ll take the measurements down.” 

At the thought of annoying Dr. Fitzpatrick, Linda opened her mouth obligingly wide. 

Even though the prod had been set aside for the moment, Linda knew what awaited her after Siobhan examined her teeth using the mirror. She’d been experiencing dental related discomfort since before she’d truly realised she was pregnant again. In hindsight, it was one of the earliest signs. She unconsciously rubbed the hand that wasn’t clutching Penny over her tummy. 

“Well, your teeth look okay for the most part,” Siobhan told her, as she examined her tooth by tooth. “There’s just one spot that we’ll need to watch out for.” 

Linda let out a groan. She didn’t want to have to watch out for a spot. Siobhan continued to speak. “Do you remember when you started having trouble with your teeth?” 

The mirror was in Linda’s mouth, so she couldn’t verbally respond, but she gestured to her abdomen. 

“Ah, when you figured out that you were pregnant?” She nodded. “That’s common.”

Dr. Fitzpatrick had approached. “Let me assess the state of Mrs. McCartney’s gums,” he insisted. Linda was so on edge by his presence that she couldn’t even be grateful to be referred to as Mrs. McCartney. “I need to to figure out what to prescribe her.”

Linda squinched her eyes shut as the dentist used the prod to measure her gums. She didn’t want to look at him when he was doing so, even if that made her feel rather childish. Dr. Fitzpatrick read off a series of numbers to Siobhan as he completed his task. 

“I’m going to prescribe you a medicated mouthwash,” he told her, his tone brusque. “You can have it filled at your local chemist.” 

Linda dreaded the thought. Taking medication was one thing, everyone knowing that she was taking the medication because the chemist’s delivery was intercepted by an obnoxious fan was entirely another. 

Still, for the sake of getting on with things, she offered him a polite smile. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I appreciate it.” 

They exchanged the pleasantries of a goodbye that neither of them meant, and Linda sank back against the examination chair. She was quite embarrassed by the state that she was in. She had never been frightened of the dentist before, but there was something about Dr. Fitzpatrick that set her on edge. She was certain that he wasn’t a terrible person, but his attitude and actions left a lot to be desired. His bedside manner was practically nonexistent. No wonder Paul had no desire to set foot in the dental surgery. 

“Why did you come in on your day off?” She asked Siobhan, hoping to stave off the prod for a moment. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Linda thought that Dr. Fitzpatrick treated Siobhan just terribly. 

“I wanted to,” she said after a moment. “I know that I didn’t have to, I just wanted to try to make things more pleasant for Paul. Dad thinks that his fear of dentists is ridiculous.” She sighed. “Well, he thinks that of everyone.” She shook her head. “Do you want me to take Heather on ahead and give you and Paul some time alone, once we’re done in here?” 

“That would be nice,” she admitted. “I don’t know if she’ll go with you.” Linda sighed. Heather had gone with Siobhan earlier, but it was getting late. She didn’t want to test her patience. “I’d like that though.”

Linda desperately needed to be alone with Paul, even though she felt that she was being selfish by ignoring Heather’s need for comfort. She would be glad to give Heather as many hugs as she needed after she had some time alone with her father. She was sure that Heather would protest. Linda herself wanted to protest the use of the prod. What did she care about whether all of the plaque was off of her teeth? Years of decent dental health had been thrown away -- for a good cause, admittedly, but she was still somewhat rankled. 

Linda nodded in what she hoped were the appropriate places as Siobhan detailed her actions. She couldn’t exactly communicate with her while she was prodding and scraping her teeth, and she didn’t really have the energy to even attempt to, even though she knew that it was rude. She didn’t want to be rude to her, she was just tired, and emotionally exhausted. Not even shutting her eyes and trying to imagine what her evening activities with Paul would consist of was enough to take her away from the sound of the scraper. Even though she couldn’t feel her teeth or her gums, the presence of the tools kept her on edge. 

“We’re almost done,” Siobhan assured her. “I promise.” 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You like me...my tiger beard, right?” He asked Heather. 
> 
> “It’s tickly,” she told him. “No one knows who you are.” 
> 
> “Ye like that, don’t ye?” 
> 
> Heather swallowed another mouthful of soup. She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t like when people recognise you,” she admitted, her voice small. “I know that you can’t help it, but they don’t like me, or Mummy.” 
> 
> “I know that they don’t,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to them again.” 

Siobhan had already made a promise to herself that she was never going to work with her father again, roughly halfway through his appointment with Paul, and her resolve had only strengthened over the course of the evening. While most people’s aggravation at being called into work on their day off would have been focussed on the fact that they’d been called into work during their limited off time, Siobhan’s aggravation was solely due to one man: Thomas Fitzpatrick. It was probably the height of irony that her father’s inability to have obtained any sort of a bedside manner throughout the course of his career in dentistry had led to Siobhan becoming a dental hygienist, but it was the truth. 

She cringed inwardly at her father’s comments about Linda, which had started benignly enough with commentary about the state of her teeth -- even though she knew that he knew full well their state was because of her pregnancy, and not because she had skipped her most recent dental cleaning -- and had swung from the fact that she’d developed a cavity to directly critiquing her parenting skills. 

Yes, Heather should have gone to the dentist sooner, and Siobhan knew that, but she didn’t know if her father’s opinions stemmed from his love for dental health or a misapplication of his faith. Linda had been a single mother, after all, and Dr. Fitzpatrick was a rather staunch Catholic. When the NHS had announced that they were allowing unmarried patients to have access to the pill, her father had attempted to round up a group of medical professionals to protest the decision. Their attempts had been unsuccessful. 

Siobhan was just relieved that she’d gotten her own flat the second she could. Her father had protested her leaving the house, but her mother had put her foot down. Siobhan was an adult, she was studying for a career, and she could live on her own if she wanted. 

She was sure that her father would have had a fit if he knew that his own daughter was taking advantage of the NHS offer. As far as she was concerned, that was none of his business. 

It was equally inappropriate for him to be passing judgement on Linda’s life, as if he was the judge and jury of the entire world. 

Linda had already yelled at him for it. It had seemed to have had little effect. 

Though Siobhan wanted to chastise her father for his comments, she sensed that it would do little good. Instead, she settled on holding Linda’s hand. 

“Heather seems excited about becoming a big sister,” she told her, her tone purposely light. Her father was waiting to put the filling in place, but she wanted to try her best to put Linda at ease before he did so. She was pregnant, and didn’t need to be stressed out anymore than she had to be. “She’s concerned about you and the baby, isn’t she?” 

“She thinks the dentist will hurt us,” Linda said in response. There was a slight edge to her tone. It did not go unnoticed by Siobhan. “I can’t imagine why she might think that.” 

“I don’t understand why she thinks that either,” her father answered. 

“Dad, can we discuss something else please?”

Siobhan had reluctantly come to work at her father’s dental surgery, and that was only because the partner of the children’s half had specifically requested that she come work for her. Dr. Bertram’s status as the co-owner of the dental surgery chafed at her father. Siobhan had little time to deal with what was either his insecurities or his beliefs that women shouldn’t be dentists. That evening, she had come solely for Paul. It wasn’t because of the stupid crush she had on him—though that didn’t hurt—but because she knew he could benefit from her training.

Siobhan wasn’t sure if her father was actually sexist, or if the fact that his token attempts at making the dental surgery more friendly towards children had done little to stem the hemorrhage of patients from the dental surgery continued to make him rather resentful to the existence of Dr. Bertram. Siobhan had tried to explain to him that Paul’s complaints about the dental surgery’s fish had been right -- the presence of fish alone was not going to inspire children to be seen in her father’s examination room -- but he had ignored her advice on the subject. He had told her that he was the dentist and Paul wasn’t. 

When the previous partner of the dental surgery retired, her father had reluctantly set off to find a proper children’s specialist. He had settled on Dr. Bertram, who had come highly acclaimed, and, for the most part, left her to her own devices. It was easier that way. 

Her father cleared his throat. “Right,” he said. “I’m just going to set your filling,” he informed Linda. “When it’s done, I’m going to want you to bite down on a piece of contact paper.” 

“You can hold my hand the entire time,” she promised her. “I’m not going to leave.” 

“You promise?” 

Linda’s voice was small, and Siobhan felt her heart break. “Of course. I promise.”

She wanted to tell her father that his comments were out of line, but she didn’t want to cause a scene at the dental surgery. Even though Siobhan wasn’t technically employed by her father, she didn’t think that he’d take kindly to her chastising him. 

Her father set the filling in Linda’s mouth, and then headed across the room to the cupboard where he kept the contact paper. Linda had held her hand tightly, and there was no sign of her letting go. Penny was pressed against her abdomen, and Linda seemed to be cradling both the dog and her tummy as if her life depended on it. Not that Siobhan could blame her. 

“It’s really not going to be that bad,” she promised. “You’ve already been through the worst. The drill and all. I’m sort of jealous, you know,” she commented. “You got through braces without any.”

“You didn’t?” Linda asked her. She shook her head. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” Siobhan assured her. She gestured to Heather’s dog. “Are you sharing Penny with little Butterfly?” 

While Siobhan doubted that Paul and Linda were actually naming their unborn child Butterfly, she thought it was sweet that Heather had nicknamed the baby that. It was clear to her that Heather was quite fond of her unborn sister or brother, and she was glad that Paul and Linda encouraged that. Siobhan was an older sister as well. She was fairly certain that her father was more than a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a single boy out of the lot of them, though he made sure to never openly admit that towards her mother. She wondered if Linda had any preference. 

“You know,” her patient said after a moment, during which Siobhan had watched her stroke the dog’s fluffy ears, her fingers stretching out to stroke her side as well. “Paul bought this for Heather before he came to New York with me to meet her for the first time,” she told her. “I told him that she was probably going to be shy at first, that she might not take to him immediately, and he thought that having a new stuffed friend for her would be a good start to things. Heather liked her, and she sleeps with her every night.” She sighed. “I just...I just wish that Paul was in here,” she admitted. “He’d calm me down.” 

Dr. Fitzpatrick had busied himself at the cabinets, and could be heard scoffing. Siobhan leveled a glare at the back of his head and returned her attention to the matter at hand. 

“Do you want me to go get him?” She offered. Linda shook her head. “No?” 

“Heather would be frightened to come back,” she whispered. “I can’t do that to her.” 

“I understand.” It was unfortunate that her father had done nothing to ease Heather’s dental anxieties. She was a sweet girl. “So, that’s why you’re sharing Penny with Butterfly?”

“I didn’t think Hettie would mind,” Linda mused, her tone exhausted. “She’s fond of her baby sibling. She thinks the baby’s a girl.” 

“What about you?” Siobhan asked, as she wiped some of the spit off Linda’s lip. “Do you have a preference?” 

“Do I think the baby’s a girl?” Linda asked her. “I don’t know, really. I just know that Paul and I want the baby to be healthy. We don’t care what we have, y’know, so long as it’s healthy. Maybe another girl would be nice,” she mused. “It would make Heather happy. All we want is for her to be happy.” 

Her father had run out of things to busy himself with, and had returned from across the room. The contact paper was in his hand. At his presence, Linda stopped talking, and an uncomfortable silence permeated the room. Siobhan knew that her father cared about people’s teeth, but his lack of a bedside manner was frankly appalling. Especially since she had the feeling that he was allowing his personal feelings about unwed mothers influence Linda’s dental experience. Linda’s relationship -- or lack thereof -- with Heather’s biological father had little to do with her teeth, and he was allowing his judgement to be clouded as a result. It was obnoxious. 

“You’re going to bite down on this paper, so I can assess your bite,” he informed her, and he inserted the paper where he’d filled her cavity. Linda did so. Dr. Fitzpatrick continued to drone. “Open up, please.” 

Linda looked like she wanted to resist the directive, but she opened her mouth nonetheless. The look that was in her eyes was reminiscent of the one Siobhan had seen in Heather. 

“Your bite looks fine,” he informed her, his tone brusque, and he grabbed the prod from the table of tools. While Siobhan believed in the best practise of telling the patient that they were going to be examined, her father believed in barrelling his way into an examination with nary a word to the person who had the misfortune to be in his chair. Linda cringed. “I just want to look at another spot, that’s all.” 

Linda made a noise of protest, and the strength of her grip on Siobhan’s hand increased tenfold. 

“It’s okay,” Siobhan promised her. “Just hold my hand. You’re going to be okay.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“What’s wrong, darling?” Paul asked Heather softly. She’d barely picked at the slice of pizza that he’d given her. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Heather mumbled. “I’m not hungry.” 

“You’re not hungry?” Paul was surprised to hear that. Heather was certainly acting like she was hungry, with the impressive tantrum she’d had in the examination room just prior to their settling in in the reception, and the crying jag she’d had in front of the candy shop. He was certain she’d even admitted to being hungry. “I thought that you wanted the pizza?” 

She shook her head. Her eyes flashed. “I changed my mind.” 

“Well, you can change your mind,” he assured her. “It’s allowed. But you still have to finish the slice. Okay, duck?” 

Heather shook her head. “I can’t eat it,” she whimpered. Her tone was one of utter distress. “There’s something wrong with my tiger teeth.” 

“Something wrong with your tiger teeth?” He shifted so that he was facing her. “What do you mean? Are ye talking about how they’re numb?” 

“Not only that,” she whispered. “My front tiger tooth.”

“The wobbly one?” Paul knew that he risked Heather’s ire if he brought up the tiger tooth. His little girl had been quite upset to hear that there was more to follow, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t overly enthused about the prospect of him experiencing a milestone if that was the one he was experiencing. Much to his shock, she simply nodded. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know! It won’t let me tear through the pizza like I’m a tiger,” she explained, the tail to her tiger costume brushing between them in the process. The hood to the costume had been pushed down so that Heather could eat. “And I tried to chew with my tiger teeth but they’re still numb.” She rubbed at the side of her face. “Can you fix me, Da?” 

“Will you let me look at ye tooth?” 

Heather hesitated, and nodded. She gestured to the offending tiger tooth. “What’s wrong with me?” 

Paul shifted so that he could get a better look at Heather’s tooth. He didn’t think that there was anything wrong with the tooth, but he wanted to make sure. Poor Heather was having a rather rough evening, and he felt partly to blame for it. He hadn’t meant for his filling to break -- yes, it was his fault that he hadn’t gotten it fixed, but he didn’t think it was that big a deal -- and he was more than a bit upset about how Dr. Fitzpatrick had been behaving. Paul didn’t care how he treated him, but he cared very much about how he treated Heather and Linda. They were his family. They needed to be treated with respect. 

“Do you mind if I touch it?” Paul asked Heather. He didn’t want to handle her tiger tooth without her permission. “I won’t, not if ye don’t want me to.” 

Heather shrugged. “You can touch it if you want.” She gazed down at her lap. 

“Is it going to bother you?” 

She shook her head. “I told you that I wanted you to get rid of it,” she whispered. “It’s bothersome and it wobbles and now I can’t tiger tear with it.” She sniffled. “And my mouth is still numb.”

“I told you, I can’t just tear it out.” Paul carefully touched the offending tooth. There didn’t seem like there was anything wrong about it, just that it was a bit wobbly, but he decided that he’d ask Siobhan if she’d be able to look at it to make sure. “I know that you want me to, but that’s not a good idea.” He carefully tugged her onto his lap. 

“Why isn’t it a good idea?” Heather demanded. “It would make the wobbles stop!”

Paul knew that the wobbling tooth caused Heather distress, and he vowed to put aside his feelings of excitement over the fact that he wasn’t missing a milestone in its entirety. If she was upset, was it really worth getting excited over? Paul wasn’t sure. He was sure that there was something else that was going to happen to his little cub that they could celebrate. 

When Mike had been Heather’s age, he’d been equally as distraught to discover that he had a wobbly front tooth. Paul was actually sure that it had been the same one as Heather’s. Their mum had told him to leave it be. As a nurse, Paul’s mother had some concept of the proper way of handling one's tiger teeth, even though her specialisation had been maternal care. As a tiger cub, Mike had been equally aware of the concept of ignoring his mother tiger. While Paul had encouraged Mike to leave the offending tooth be, the older lads at their council estate hadn’t been so prudent. They had told him that he needed to tie a piece of fishing line to his loose tiger tooth, and to the knob of a door, and slam the door shut. That’d take care of his problem right quick. 

Though Paul feared his parents’ reaction to helping Mike with this plan, they’d both been off at work, and he’d rationalised that they’d be able to explain that the tooth had fallen off naturally. After all, Paul’s own teeth had fallen out on their own. The tooth fairy had even been by their flat to reward him. What was the harm in helping Mike’s along the way? 

Like Heather’s, Mike’s tiger tooth hadn’t been ready to come out, and there had been quite a lot of blood. Paul’s mum had been quite cross at the two of them when she’d popped into the house and discovered the state of her child, and that of her carpet. She’d had to rush Mike to the dental surgery because he hadn’t stopped bleeding. 

It wasn’t something that Paul was keen on experiencing with Heather. 

“There’s nothing wrong with ye,” Paul whispered, in what he hoped was a soothing tone. Judging by the wobble of Heather’s lower lip, it left a lot to be desired. “Your tiger tooth is just being a bit of a bother, that’s all. It’ll be all right. Do you want the soup that I bought?” 

“Instead of the pizza?” Heather’s tone was one of betrayal. “I don’t like it, Da. Soup. It tastes weird!”

“This is chicken noodle soup,” he assured her. “You like that, don’t you?” 

She worried her lower lip. “Mummy makes it sometimes,” she said in response. 

Paul nodded. “That’s right,” he told her encouragingly. “You like it then, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, because Mum made it,” she pointed out. “I love Mummy.” 

“I know you do,” he whispered. “Mummy loves you so much. She’d be worried about you if she found out you hadn’t eaten. Maybe you can have a little soup, y’know? For Mummy’s sake?” 

“Why would she worry about me?” 

“Because she loves you.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, too, you know.” 

“I know, Daddy,” she murmured. “I love you, too.” 

“You’re a growing tiger,” he added. “Y’know that, right?” She nodded. “Growing tigers need to have their supper, especially when they’ve had days filled with excitement.” He offered her an encouraging smile. “Especially since you want to be properly fed for tomorrow, don’t you?” 

“I want to have cake tomorrow,” she whispered. 

“You’ll be able to,” he promised. “But you’ve got to eat some of the soup, okay?” 

“Will you share it with me?” 

Paul nodded. “I’ll share it with you. Of course, darling. There’s enough for both of us.” 

Even though Paul had gotten Heather the pizza, he’d had the sense to order a larger portion of soup than he’d have preferred. He’d hoped that she’d have been able to have the pizza, of course. It was her favourite food, after all. 

“You really don’t think that my tiger tooth being wobbly is bad?” 

“I really don’t, duckie, but I understand that you have real, legitimate, fears.” It was important to Paul that Heather knew that he understood how scared she was. “You’ve been through quite a lot for a cub your age, and I know that’s especially true when it comes to the dentist. You’re being such a big brave tiger.” 

Heather shuddered. “Why do you go to see Dr. Fitzpatrick?” She questioned. She gazed up at him with her big blue eyes. “He’s so mean to you, Da.” 

Paul knew that Dr. Fitzpatrick’s bedside manner left a lot to be desired, but he reckoned that he was partly to blame for that. Who was going to be pleasant and friendly to someone who made it his life’s work to avoid being in the bloody dental chair? The important basics were covered. He got privacy at the dental surgery, and Dr. Fitzpatrick didn’t have the audacity to ask him how he was handling the death of his mother. Paul’s old dentist -- back in Liverpool -- had had the temerity to ask his reluctant patient that question. Paul had yet to forgive him.

Linda had insisted that it was okay for Paul to express his feelings and thoughts on the subject of his mother, and he had reluctantly agreed to go along with it, mainly for little Heather’s sake. He didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to continue on as he had been doing since her death -- ignoring the fact that she’d died and he had feelings on the subject had been working pretty well for over a decade -- but...whatever. Maybe Linda was right and it was unhealthy to bottle up his emotions. He wasn’t certain. 

What he was certain about was the fact that Angie had used his reluctance to discuss his mother and convinced his daughter that she was her grandmother, and that was unacceptable. Paul couldn’t fault little Heather for having come to the conclusion. She was his father’s wife, after all, and his father had adopted little Ruth. It was still unacceptable. 

Paul had humiliated himself at his childhood dentist. He had been reluctant to go to the appointment in the first place, but his mother had scheduled them before she’d died, and his guilt at disappointing her had overruled his lack of desire to be seen by the husband of one of her former patients. Dr. Morgan had been pleased to see Paul, of course, because Paul had been a compliant, willing, patient. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint his mum and dad, y’know, and he’d gone along with the dentist’s whims with nary a complaint. In comparison to Mike, he was the model patient. 

The appointment had gone as well as it could have gone -- some hemming and hawing over the state of his mouth, the application of the very filling that Paul had gotten replaced that day -- and he’d even forced himself to do his mother proud and schedule another cleaning. That was, until Dr. Morgan had asked after him. It seemed that Mike had used the dentist’s inquiring after him after his mother’s passing to throw Paul under the bloody bus, and the dentist was concerned that he hadn’t been handling his mum’s death well. Paul thought that was bloody rubbish. What was he meant to do? Cry over her? He’d tried that and he’d gotten it in the ear. 

“I don’t care that he’s mean to me,” he settled on. It was a poor excuse, and Paul knew it. He just couldn’t bring himself to discuss any of his feelings about his mother in the reception of the dental surgery. “I care that he was mean to your mum. I don’t want either of you going to him if he’s going to have an attitude like that.” He lit up a smoke. 

Heather’s gaze remained fixated on him. “Wasn’t just mean to Mummy,” she pointed out. “He wasn’t nice to Siobhan, either.” 

“D’you like her?” Paul asked. “Siobhan?” 

After a moment, Heather nodded. “She’s nice to me,” she told him. “She let me get everyone treasures, and she wasn’t the one who made my tiger gums all weird feeling. Did she really get to go to your concert?”

“Yeah, I got her tickets to a few,” he confirmed. “Why do you ask?” 

“That’s not fair,” she opined. “Mum went to see you when you played in New York. Siobhan got to see you here. I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten to.” 

“You get to see me play all the time,” he told her. “I play for you.”    
  


“Not at a concert, though.” She sighed. “Can I ask her about it?” 

Paul shrugged. “If you want to.” 

Paul had little desire to dredge up the memories of his touring years, but he was determined to get Heather into that dental chair, even if it meant having to listen to Siobhan tell her about the experiences that she’d had at the expense of Paul’s compensative tickets and Brian’s good sense and unique ability to get John to behave in a manner that was suitable for polite society -- the society in this case being the dentist’s daughter. John had thought that mocking Siobhan’s orthodontia was a fine use of his time when they had first met -- thankfully out of the young girl’s earshot -- and Brian had immediately put him to task on the subject. It appeared that Brian thought mocking young girls was rather rude and that if John continued to do so he was in for a night of lecturing. Paul was annoyed that his decrees that his fellow bandmates be nice to Siobhan had had little effect, but he was just grateful that John had managed to shut up when Brian had told him that he had no choice. 

Giving the tickets to Siobhan and her sisters was an easier use of Paul’s time than having to stomach concerts with Angie in the audience. Though Paul had allowed Ruth to come to his concerts -- mostly with Mike -- seeing his father in the audience with his stepmonster was a non-starter. He could tolerate young Ruth claiming that he was her older brother -- there were times when he found her adoration flattering -- but Angie had this habit of getting herself into interviews and managing to claim that she was Paul’s mother, which was absolutely unacceptable to him. Obviously, Paul knew his mother was dead, and that she wasn’t coming back, but that didn’t mean that he had to replace her with his apparent stepmother. He found it awfully convenient that no one could have been bothered to tell him that his father had managed to find a new bride, and a replacement child, and yet Angie found it in herself to catch the ear of every fan or pressman she could and convince them that they were getting some bloody exclusive if they gave her a photo op. 

It made Paul quite angry. He wasn’t going to begrudge his father happiness, if that was what Angie provided him, but he was more than a bit rankled by her insistence that their relationship was something that it wasn’t. She was simply a bird who’d married a bloke. It was just to his detriment that he was the son of the bloke she’d married. 

It wasn’t like Paul could tell Heather that, which was ironic, since his complaints about Angie were one of the few stories related to touring that were appropriate for an almost six year old to hear. What was he meant to do? Tell Heather about how he’d been deported from Hamburg? 

“I do want to!” Heather chirped. “Can you tell me anything?” 

“I met Mummy when I was on tour,” he added idly. “If you eat some of the soup, I’ll tell you about it.”

“You have to eat some of the soup, too,” she told him. “Will you eat with me?” 

Paul nodded. He eyed her abandoned slice of pizza with hungry eyes. “Can I have that?” 

“No!” Heather protested. “You have to be careful of your tiger teeth! You had a boo boo filled.” 

“I can have pizza,” he lied. 

“No you can’t,” she corrected him. “I know that you can’t. I was awake when Dr. Fitzpatrick said not to have foods you need to chew. I was only pretending to sleep!”

Paul cursed inwardly. He’d forgotten that Heather hadn’t truly been asleep when he’d gotten his tooth filled. 

“You’re right,” he admitted. His gaze dropped to his lap. “Do I have to listen to Dr. Fitzpatrick, though? You said that you thought he was horrible.” 

“I do think that!” Heather agreed, her tone insistent. She climbed onto his lap. Paul pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “He is horrible. So mean to you, and to Mummy and little Butterfly. But you can’t eat pizza so soon after he fixed your tiger tooth.” 

“Why can’t I? Just because he said?” 

“I don’t want him to go near you again. He’ll make you use the machine that made you talk funny and say those things that made you sad again. And your tiger teeth...what if he ruins them?” 

“I don’t think Dr. Fitzpatrick said anything that made me sad,” Paul protested. “What are ye talking about?” 

“No, the things that you said made you sad,” Heather corrected him. “You said you didn’t want to talk about it...Mummy said we could talk about it later.” She worried her lower lip. “I don’t know where your friend that introduced you and Mummy went, and she wouldn’t let me look for him.” 

In the back of his mind, Paul vaguely recalled having mentioned Brian in front of Heather and Linda. “Don’t worry about him,” he told her. “Why don’t you have some of the soup, and I’ll tell you about the concert where I met Mummy?” 

He took a spoonful of the soup and held it up to Heather’s mouth, pleased when his little tiger allowed herself to swallow the spoonful without much of an argument. 

“Your turn now,” she said. 

“What?” 

“It’s your turn to have some of the soup,” she extrapolated. “We have to share.” 

“We don’t have to share,” he told her. Heather scowled. “What?” 

“We do!” She insisted. “Your tummy is grumbling!” 

“You’re more important,” he told her. “I want you to eat, duck. You’re a growing tiger, remember?” 

“Why don’t you have to eat?” Heather demanded. “I know that I’m a growing tiger, but you need to eat, too. You barely ate all day. I know you’re hungry, Da. You keep staring at my pizza.” 

“Well, that’s pizza,” he said. “You said I mustn’t have that.” 

“I don’t want the soup either,” she pointed out. “But you said I have to eat it. What’s the difference?” 

“I--” Paul thought better of telling Heather that he was allowed to tell her what to do because he was her father. He didn’t want to upset her. “Fine. You really want to share the soup with me?” 

She nodded. “You’re a growing tiger, too,” she informed him. 

“Am I?” He chuckled. “How do you reckon that?” 

She reached a hand out to touch his beard. “You  _ are _ growing. You’re growing your tiger beard.” 

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he agreed. “D’you really want me to have some now?” 

“Uh huh,” Heather dipped the spoon into the soup, and she navigated it up to his mouth. “Come on, Da. Eat it.” 

Paul obliged her. He was hungry, after all. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“You like me...my tiger beard, right?” He asked Heather. 

“It’s tickly,” she told him. “No one knows who you are.” 

“Ye like that, don’t ye?” 

Heather swallowed another mouthful of soup. She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t like when people recognise you,” she admitted, her voice small. “I know that you can’t help it, but they don’t like me, or Mummy.” 

“I know that they don’t,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to them again.” 

Paul had told the fans that made it their lives’ work to hang around his house that their behaviour was unacceptable. He had a family now, and he’d made that clear to them. Linda and Heather were important to him, and the fans couldn’t be bothered to respect either of them. He had told them that he was more than willing to see them when they came by the studio. It wasn’t as if he’d really expected them to listen to him, but he was a bit irked by the fact that his request had caused them to double down on their immaturity. 

“They don’t listen,” she whispered. “No matter what you do.” 

He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “I’ll keep telling them to back off, okay? Until it sticks.” 

Heather shoved another spoonful of soup in his mouth. “It’s okay,” she told him. “We’re going on holiday soon, right?” 

He swallowed the soup. “Holiday? We’re booked in at me dad’s for Christmas,” he told her. “You really think that’s a holiday?” 

Heather shuddered. “I think it’s going to be scary,” she admitted. “All those people.” 

“I’ll be there, duck,” he assured her. “The whole time...Mummy and I will be there. They’re my family, luv, they’re not scary. I promise. You’ll be seeing some of them tomorrow, y’know, after the wedding. We’re going to go round to Mike’s for the wedding breakfast. The baby will be there.” 

“Baby Brenna?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, your little cousin. I told Mike that you’re excited to meet her.” 

“I want to meet her now,” she sighed. “Instead of being at the dental surgery.” 

“I know you do.” Paul wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll be able to tell everyone how brave you were, though.” 

Heather glanced up at him. “Brave?” She questioned. “I’m not brave.” 

“Sure you are, duck,” he whispered. “You’re the bravest girl.” 

“I’m not brave,” she insisted. “Tigers are brave. Not me.” 

“Ah, but aren’t ye a tiger?” Paul asked her, and he tugged lightly on her tail. “I remember you told me that you needed proper fancy dress for Halloween, because your tiger outfit wasn’t a costume. You told me that when you had it on you were a tiger.” 

She gave him a bashful smile. “Do you believe that?” 

“Yeah, I believe that.” 

Heather sighed. “But I said that I was a tiger and the dentist didn’t believe me. I wanted to use my tiger teeth, remember?” She shook her head. “They’re not good tiger teeth anymore, anyways.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Heather shook her head. “I already told you why they’re not good tiger teeth,” she reminded him. “They’re bad tiger teeth because the front one’s gone all wobbly wrong, and I can’t tear my food like a tiger with it.” She scowled, and she wobbled the bothersome tooth with her tongue. “I don’t like that it’s wobbly -- it feels weird. I wanted my pizza, and I can’t even eat it!”

She scrubbed at her face. “I couldn’t chew, either. I can’t feel my tiger molars.” 

“That doesn’t mean that they’re bad tiger teeth,” Daddy told her, and Heather scowled. How could he lie to her? Her tiger teeth had been ruined. “I’m sorry that you can’t chew,” he added. “Why didn’t you tell me that you didn’t want the numbing gel?” 

“I couldn’t tell you,” she whispered. “You know I couldn’t.” 

“Heather, duck, you can tell me anything. I’m your dad. I promise, whatever it is, I’ll always listen to you.”

“Maybe I could have told you,” she allowed herself to admit. “But, Da, the dentist was there. I had to do what he said. He’s evil.” 

“Dr. Fitzpatrick’s not evil.” 

“He might not be an evil person, but he’s a dentist” she whispered. “If you don’t do what they say, they hurt you.” 

Heather wanted to tell her dad what had happened to her at the school dentist appointment, but she was scared to speak the words out loud. When Mummy had found out what had happened to Heather, she had cried, and Heather hated that. The Headmaster and Grandpa Lee’s dentist had said such horrible things about Mummy and Heather and they’d seemed so convincing that Heather had almost believed them. Heather knew that it wasn’t true, what they’d said. Her old dad hadn’t left them because she’d been a terrible child, and Mummy wasn’t an unfit parent. It wasn’t Mummy’s fault that she didn’t have enough money to send her to the dentist, and she didn’t care that she hadn’t gone. Her experience at the school had been proof that the dentist was a horrible person, and that she didn’t ever want to go back. 

Heather had been the only person at Dalton who had had to go to the school dentist, and it had come out -- how, she didn’t know -- that she had never been to the dentist at all. Even though Heather thought she had had a wonderful childhood based in part on avoiding the dentist, the fact that her mum was too poor to afford her a trip had been the cause of much mockery amongst her peers. They already made fun of her because she didn’t have a dad, and because her grandfather had paid for her to go to Dalton, so why were they making fun of her because she hadn’t yet had her tiger cub teeth ruined by a cleaning? Heather had been relieved that her mummy couldn’t afford the dentist. Was it really that much of an embarrassment? 

Heather felt like she embarrassed everyone. 

She didn’t want to embarrass her dad, either. 

“What do you mean?” Daddy asked her. “I don’t do things that he tells me to do, he doesn’t hurt me.” 

“You’re a grown up,” she reminded him. “I’m a kid.” 

“Dentists aren’t meant to hurt children,” Daddy insisted. “I know that you had a bad experience back in New York, but that’s not how things are meant to be.”

“How do you know?” Heather demanded. “You don’t even know what happened.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened, but you could tell me, y’know? I don’t want you to be upset, if it’s something that I can fix.” 

Heather didn’t think that Daddy could fix this, even though she wished that he could. 

Heather had begged Mummy not to tell Daddy what had happened to her. Heather hadn’t known Daddy then, so why did he have to know? It had been the worst experience of her life -- both the existence of the dentist appointment and then the dastardly act itself -- and Mummy had been the only one who’d cared about her. Even Grandpa had been cross at her and Mummy. She scowled at the memory. Mummy hadn’t wanted Heather to go to Dalton, but Grandpa Lee had insisted that she needed a “proper education”, despite Heather’s protests. She didn’t want to go to a school filled with rich people and people with dads, even though Mummy insisted that she and Heather were perfectly fine with their one bedroom flat and just her and Mummy. 

“I didn’t want to go to Dalton,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eye. “Mummy didn’t want me to go either, and Grandpa made me.” 

“Grandpa made you?” Daddy echoed. Heather could hear the confusion in his tone. “How did he make you?” 

She shrugged. “One day Mummy and I came home and she brought in the mail,” she recalled, her tone rather sullen. “There was a postcard that made her smile -- I think it was from you, and then she saw the packet. It welcomed me as a student to Dalton Academy.” Heather hadn’t felt very welcomed at all. “Grandpa had paid for my tuition, because he though Mummy was just too proud to ask him for the money.” 

She drew in a deep breath. “I was supposed to see the dentist before I went to school, but Mummy couldn’t afford it. I told her that my tiger teeth were fine, because that was before they became all wobbly weird.” There were more wobbly teeth than just her front tooth, Heather was just loathe to admit it. “Mummy didn’t think that there would be a dentist that they would force me to see at school. She thought they wouldn’t bother hiring one on, since most of the people who went to Dalton could afford to go ruin their tiger teeth by visiting the dentist.” She sniffled. “She was wrong.” 

Heather drew in a shuddering breath. “They took me out of my class and the teacher made sure that everyone knew why, and they brought me into a room with a tray of tools set up, and a wooden chair. It wasn’t even a nice chair like the one Siobhan let me try, and the tools were scarier than the ones Dr. Fitzpatrick had, and I recognised the dentist because I’d met him before -- Grandpa had to take me to one of his appointments when Mummy was in England. When she took those pictures of you!” 

“I’ve got that picture she took of you in front of the one of me in my office,” Daddy told her. “I’ll bring you up so you can see it, y’know, if you want.”

Heather shook her head. “I don’t deserve it, Daddy, you’re going to think I’m a bad girl.” 

Heather had tried her best to remember to be a brave tiger as she’d sat in the room with the tools and the uncomfortable chair, but when her request to have Mummy come to the school to be there with her had been denied, all of her courage had melted away. The dentist knew who Mummy was, of course, and told Heather that she’d lost her chance of having Mummy there when she hadn’t been seen prior to the start of school.

“Heather, I don’t think you’re a bad girl,” he promised. “I love you so much. I wouldn’t think you were bad for being afraid of the dentist.” 

“They thrashed me!” She exclaimed. “Mummy saw the marks but I told her that I was bad and I deserved it. I didn’t want her to go to the school and talk to them about it because I knew that they were going to be mean to her! They said that she was a bad mummy.” 

Heather felt Daddy wrap his arms around her, and she let him pull her close. “They’re wrong, Heather. They were wrong to thrash you, and they were wrong to say those horrible things about your mum. She was just trying to do her best by you.”

“I know. It was so scary, Da,” she whimpered, and she shifted so that she could press her cheek to his chest. “They held me down and they gave me an examination--worse than the one Dr. F. gave you. They used that pokey thing and they made my tiger gums bleed, worse than Mummy’s. And he hooked it into my lip.” Heather took his hand in hers and placed it where the dentist had hurt her. The fact that it was the same place as the boo boo Daddy’d gotten from crashing his motorbike did little to soothe her. While Heather normally cherished having things in common with her dad, this was definitely not something she enjoyed. “I tried so hard to be a big, brave tiger. I wasn’t good enough.” 

“You are good enough,” he whispered. “You are a big brave tiger. Even tigers are allowed to be scared of things.” Heather curled close to him. “I reckon that we might be able to skip coming back to meet the dentist if you let Siobhan look at your tiger cub teeth.”

“Will she let you and Mummy stay with me?” 

“Of course she will,” he said. “I reckon she might be persuaded to tell you about one of my concerts.”

Heather shook her head. “That’s okay.” Heather wanted to hear what one of Daddy’s concerts had been like, but she wanted to extend the length of her time in the dreadful surgery even less. What if telling Heather about the concert she’d gone to made Siobhan take longer on her tiger teeth? Heather would have never forgiven herself for her curiosity. 

“You don’t want to know what one of my concerts was like?” 

“Not if it means we have to take even longer here,” she informed him, her tone firm. Heather barely wanted to talk to Siobhan at all now that she knew what she did for a living, let alone asking her how Daddy’s concert went? She was curious, but not willing to set herself up for torture. “Do I have to talk to her at all while she’s looking at them?”

“You can’t  _ ignore _ her, duck, it would be rude,” Daddy told her.

Heather drew in a shuddering breath. “I changed my mind.” 

“Why?” Daddy asked her. “What’s wrong?” 

Heather frantically shook her head. She didn’t know how to explain why the comment had upset her, but it had. “I’m not rude!” She exclaimed, as tears came to her eyes. “I’m not! I’m not!”

“Heather, I didn’t say that you were rude,” he insisted. She shook her head. “I didn’t! I just meant that--”

“Let me go!” She demanded. “Put me down, Dad. I don’t want you.” 

“Heather!” 

“Don’t you get it?” She asked him, well aware that there were tears streaming down her cheeks, and powerless to stop them. She wrenched herself out of his grasp and headed in the direction of the fishtanks. Heather wanted to be at home with Martha, or to be able to hold Penny, but she didn’t know how to get home from the dental surgery, and Mummy needed Penny more than Heather needed her. In their absence, the fish would have to do. 

“Heather, I--I don’t think that you’re rude,” he said. “I just meant that it would be rude to ignore Siobhan while she’s doing her job. She worked hard on her studies, y’know. Even though it’s not something we’re keen on.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her tone firm. “I want to look at the fish.” 

“Can I look at the fish with you?” Daddy asked her. “I know I said I didn’t want to look at them earlier, but I changed my mind. I’d like to look at them with you.”

“Why did you change your mind?” Heather asked him. She didn’t mind if he looked at the fish with her, but he’d been so angry that she’d wanted to look at them in the first place. Mummy had said that looking at the fish was okay, so she’d done so, but she’d thought he hated them. Heather didn’t understand why he’d hate the fish. They were so colourful. “You don’t have to look with me, if you don’t want to.” 

“You like the fish, though, right?” 

She nodded. “Uh huh,” she confirmed. She wanted to bring her thumb up to her mouth, but she forced herself not to indulge. Daddy had gotten cross with her when she’d done so in her sleep. She didn’t want to know what he’d say if she did it while she was awake. “They’re pretty.” 

“You’re pretty.” 

Heather wanted to protest. Her wobbly tiger tooth made her feel like she had an ugly smile, and the fact that Daddy now knew about her horrible scar did nothing to make her feel pretty. But what was the harm in agreeing? Daddy was saying that to be nice.

“Thank you,” she settled on. She gave him a shy smile, before she refocussed her gaze on the fish. “Maybe we can sit together?” 

“In the chairs? Or in front of the fish?” 

Heather contemplated the question. “Can we really sit in front of the fish?” 

“Of course we can, duck. We can do whatever you want.” 

“No, we can’t!” Heather protested. “Stop lying!” 

“I’m not--”   
  


“You are!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you you needed to get your tiger tooth with the hole in it fixed! I didn’t want Mummy to have her tiger teeth get all bloody and hurt! Now she’s stuck in there! What if he takes Penny from her?” 

“He’s not going to take Penny from her--”

“You don’t know that!” Heather protested. “Mummy’s too old to have a stuffed animal!” 

“No, she’s not,” he insisted. “Why do you say that?”

“Grandma Monique said that I was a baby for wanting to bring Oinkers with me!” Heather sputtered. “She got mad because I was carrying her around. She said I was embarrassing! That going to Dalton was supposed to fix me!” 

“Fix you? You don’t need to be fixed. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

She shook her head. Everything was wrong with her. Heather knew that. She was sure that Daddy did. Why would he lie? That didn’t make any sense.

“I’m a baby,” she told him. “Babies cry when they’re at the dentist. Babies cry when they get the switch. Babies want to bring their stuffed animals with them because they’re scared.” She scrubbed at her face. “I know that you said I could bring Penny places, but isn’t that because she’s a dog? You bring Martha lots of places.” 

“Come here,” Daddy encouraged, and he sat down on the floor beside her. “Why don’t ye sit with me on my lap and we’ll cuddle under the moggy coat?”

“Do we have to talk about it?” 

Daddy shook his head. “We can if you want to, darling, but I don’t care if we do or not. I just want to sit with you and see if I can make you feel better.” 

Heather snuggled close to him, and she felt him wrap his arm around her. She buried her face against his side, taking care to breathe in his special smell. Daddy’s smell was always able to comfort her, even when she didn’t think that there was anything that would manage to make her feel better. She let out a loud sniffle. 

“I miss Oinkers,” she admitted. She was just glad that she couldn’t look him in the eye from her current position. “When I brought her places with me, I didn’t need to suck my thumb.” 

“You can bring Oinkers places,” he whispered. Heather felt him draw in a deep breath. “Honest, Heather. I think it’s fine if you bring her. Your mum won’t care, and I don’t care either.” 

“Can I bring her tomorrow?” Heather asked him, her tone curious. She peered up at him. “To your wedding?” 

Daddy ruffled her hair. “Yeah, of course you can,” he told her. “You can bring Oinkers, and you can bring Penny, if you want to.” 

“I do want to.” Heather desperately wanted to bring Oinkers and Penny to Mummy and Daddy’s wedding. “Can we play wedding day with them?” 

“Wedding day?” Daddy asked her. “You want us to?” 

Heather nodded. “I want us to,” she confirmed. “Please? We don’t have to play wedding day tonight,” she added. 

“Are you tired, tiger?” 

Heather was, but she shook her head. She didn’t want Daddy to insist on going home when Mummy was done at the dentist. Even though she didn’t want her tiger teeth examined by Siobhan, Heather wanted her tiger teeth examined by a dentist even less. Daddy had  _ promised _ that if she let Siobhan look at her cub teeth they wouldn’t have to go back to the dentist after the wedding. She didn’t want to meet Dr. Bertram. 

“No, I’m not tired.” she murmured. Daddy wrapped his arms around her. “I’m brave!”

“You’re quite brave, you’re right,” he agreed. Heather felt him kiss her hair. “You’re the bravest girl I know.” 

Heather knew that Daddy was lying, but it was still nice to hear that he thought she was brave. She valued his opinion of her, even if she didn’t believe half the things he said. Why would she be the bravest girl he knew? She didn’t get it. 

“I want to play wedding day tomorrow so that I can be in my pretty dress when we play it,” she told him. “You can wear your suit.” 

“I can’t wait to marry your mum,” he told her. “Marrying your mum, signing the papers that’ll make you legally ours...that’s a pretty brilliant day that I’ve got ahead of me.” 

She nodded. “We get to meet Brenna, too,” she reminded him. 

“You’ll get to hold her,” he added. “Mike said that it was all right.” 

“Even though I’ve never held a baby before?” Heather asked him. She snuggled against his chest. “What if I do it wrong?” 

“Mummy and I will be with you,” he promised. “We’ll help you out. You’re not going to hold the baby alone.” 

“You’ll be with me?” 

Heather wasn’t scared of her aunt and uncle, but she was nervous about being around the other people. Daddy had a big family, and she didn’t know some of them. What if they were there to meet Brenna too? Or worse, Heather thought to herself, what if she encountered some of the Fishwicks? Heather had been okay with meeting Angela, but she dreaded the thought of an encounter with her family members. What if they made fun of how she spoke? She tried so hard to sound normal, especially when she wasn’t at home with her mum and dad. She didn’t want them to realise that she wasn’t. 

“We will be,” he assured her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to throw ye to the wolves.” 

“What about Oinkers?” Heather asked him. “Penny’s okay to bring places because she’s a dog, you bring Martha places, but Oinkers is my pig,” she reminded him. “I got in trouble when I brought Oinkers out to dinner with Grandpa Lee and Monique and her sons.” She shuddered at the memory. “Will they laugh at me?” 

“I think that Oinkers would like to come with you,” Daddy told her. “No one’s going to laugh at you. You’re not going to get in trouble.” 

“I think that she’d like to come with me, too,” she agreed. “Do you remember meeting Oinkers?” 

“Of course I do, darling. How could I forget?” He ruffled her hair. “That was the day I met you, y’know. One of the best days of my life.” 

“One of the best days of my life, too,” she whispered. “I love you, Da.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Heather knew that her dad loved her. She loved him so much. “I wanted to bring Oinkers and Bear today,” she admitted. “They were sleeping, though.” 

“Sleeping, eh?” Daddy asked her. “How’d you reckon that?” 

“Because, Da, they were sleeping,” she insisted. Her tone was sage. “Thisbe and her kittens were snuggled up with them.” Daddy was so silly -- how did he not know that Oinkers and Bear had fallen asleep when they’d all napped together? “Maybe you didn’t notice because of your tiger tooth,” she conceded. “It was hurting you a lot.” 

“I think that you could tell Siobhan about Oinkers and Bear, y’know, if you want.”

“What if I don’t want to?” 

“Well, you don’t have to, y’know, but you don’t have to feel like you have to keep them a secret, that’s all,” he told her. She watched him light another cigarette with interest. Why did Daddy smoke them? He didn’t normally smoke so many in a row. Maybe he was scared of the dentist, too? “What’re you looking at?” 

“You’re smoking a lot,” she acknowledged. “Doesn’t that bother your new tiger tooth?” 

Daddy exhaled a plume of smoke. “Why would it bother it? Can’t feel nothing, anyways.” 

“You asked what I was looking at,” she reminded him. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he told her. “I’m just having a ciggie, that’s all.” 

Heather peered over at the ashtray that Daddy had taken over from where they’d been sat. It was littered with the remains of the brand of cigarettes that Daddy smoked, and  _ only _ the cigarettes that Daddy smoked. While it was possible that he wasn’t the only person who smoked them in the dental surgery, she hadn’t noticed that it was so full when they first arrived. Daddy had had more cigarettes in his pack, too. She’d seen them! 

“Are you nervous about the dentist?” Heather asked him. “Is that why you’re smoking so much?”

“I’m not nervous!” Daddy insisted, his tone defensive. 

Heather didn’t believe him. She knew that he was scared of the dentist. Why else had he missed his dentist appointments for almost a whole year? 

“When is Mummy coming out?” She asked him, wanting to change the subject. She missed Mummy, and Penny, and she was angry at the fact that poor Mummy had had to spend more time in the dentist’s chair. “Do you know?” 

“Soon, I reckon,” he answered. “D’you want me to plait your hair? While we wait?” 

She nodded. “I want two plaits,” she told him. She held up two fingers for emphasis. “One on each side, like tiger ears.” 

“Of course, darling,” Daddy told her. “I’ll give you tiger ear plaits. Whatever suits you.” 

Daddy had plaited her hair earlier that day, but the plaits had come out over the course of their torture session at the dental surgery. Heather was more than willing to get her hair plaited, of course, especially if he was willing to go along with her perceptions of being a tiger. Heather loved tigers. They were so brave, and big, and the ones in New York had come up to the glass window of their display and eyed her with interest. Heather had been interested in them too. Mummy had taken their picture. 

“Do you think that we can bring the kitties to see the fish tanks?” Heather asked him. “They’ve got to have their teeth looked at too.” 

“Oh, duck, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said. “I know that you like the fish, and you love the kitties, but I don’t think that the fish want to meet them.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t they already met a tiger?” He pointed out. She nodded. It was nice when Daddy acknowledged that she was a tiger. She worked hard at being the best tiger she could be. “I reckon that that suits them well enough.”

“I wish that they didn’t need to get their teeth cleaned,” she whispered. 

“I know,” he sighed. “I reckon it’s probably what’s best for them, though,” he told her. Heather frowned at that. How could tormenting her pets be what what was best for them? “Don’t pull a face like that,” he chided. “Y’know it’s for the best. Same as us going, y’know?” 

“I guess.” Heather disagreed that going to the dentist was for the best. She just didn’t have the energy to fight Daddy over it. None of her protests had changed any part of the situation, and she was tiger tired. She let out a sigh, before her ears perked. Like any good tiger, Heather prided herself on her exemplary hearing, and she could pick Mummy’s footsteps out of a crowd with ease. “Da!” She chirped. “Mummy’s coming back! She’s okay!” 

“Go on,” Daddy encouraged her. “Go see Mummy.”

Heather’s dread at the potential encounter with the dentist was overruled by her desire to see her mother, and she needed little encouragement to rise from her position on the floor. She headed out of the reception and down the hallway, where Mummy was walking. At the sight of her mother, Heather took off at a run. 

Soon, she was able to wrap her arms around Mummy. She didn’t care that they were outside of the examination room, even though she could hear the sound of the dreadful dentist inside. She just had her mummy back. 

“Are you okay?” Heather asked her, her eyes wide. The plaits that Daddy had braided for her bounced against her ears, just like they would a tiger. Butterfly’s belly was tantalisingly within her reach, and she pressed her hand to it for a moment, not wanting her sister or brother to feel like she’d been ignoring them. Heather’s attention towards the baby was momentarily fleeting, however, and she soon focused her gaze on her mum. “Mum, he didn’t hurt you, did he?” 

“I’m fine, Hettie,” Mummy insisted. “Where is your father?” 

“He’s out there,” she told her. She pointed in the direction that she’d come from. “Mummy, was Penny a good doggy? Did she behave?” 

  
  



	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s like I’m not even a tiger anymore!” Heather whinged in protest. “How can I be a good tiger if I can’t tiger tear or tiger chew with my tiger teeth?!”
> 
> “You’re not a tiger anymore?” Linda heard Siobhan say, and she noticed that Heather had turned a cautious gaze in direction of her voice. “That’s too bad, because I was wondering what it would be like to have tea with a tiger.”
> 
> “Why were you wondering that?” Heather mumbled. 

Linda had seen Heather approaching her, but she’d been surprised that her little cub had managed to make it all the way down the hallway to where she was standing, simply due to the proximity of her placement to the examination room. She hadn’t wanted to abandon Siobhan to the metaphorical wolves -- by which Linda had meant her father -- and that had necessitated waiting outside of the room. Now that she had an armful of tiger cub, she was reconsidering her decision. Heather was so brave. Linda felt that it was cruel to be with her so close to the dentist himself. 

“Do you want to go back to Daddy?” Linda suggested. 

“I want to know how you and Butterfly are!” Heather informed her. Her plaits bounced as she nodded her head. “I was so worried, Mum. Are you two okay?” 

Heather had pressed herself against Linda, and she tightened her arms around her little girl. Heather was of course Linda’s big, brave, tiger cub, but she needed the comfort of Heather’s embrace equally as much as Heather needed her to hold her. She wished that she could pick her up and carry her, but she knew that wasn’t safe for little Butterfly. So she had to settle for the warmth of her big girl’s hug. 

“We’re fine, sweetie,” she promised her. “I just was wondering if we could go back to Daddy, because I want to see him.” Linda needed to see Paul with a desperation she didn’t know she had. She had been alone for so long that the fact that she had a partner to comfort her was more of a novelty than a given, but she knew that he’d want to find out how she’d done with her filling. Frankly, Linda needed to get away from Dr. Fitzpatrick. “Would that be okay?” 

Heather nodded. “We can go back to Daddy,” she agreed. She peeled herself off her, and extended her arm. “Daddy said you couldn’t carry me, but that you could hold hands with me.”

“You want to hold my hand?” Linda did her best to hide her shock. Heather was usually willing to hold Paul’s hand, but insisted on her mother carrying her. Offers to hold Linda’s hand were usually rebuffed by the little cub, who found changes in her routines to be trying, if not downright upsetting. Still, Heather nodded. Her arm remained in an extended position, and Linda reached out and linked her fingers with hers. “Of course we can hold hands, sweetheart. I thought you didn’t like it.” 

Heather heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t like it,” she told her. “I mean, it’s fine, but I wish you could carry me. I just don’t want to hurt the baby.” 

“I know you don’t,” she whispered. “Tell you what. When we go out to the reception, you can sit on my lap, and we can hold each other that way. Would you like that?” 

Heather worried her lower lip. “I would!” She insisted. “I just don’t want to hurt Butterfly. Or bother her! Would it bother her?” 

“It’s not going to bother your brother or sister,” Linda assured her. “You know that Butterfly might not be a girl, right?” 

Heather sighed. “I know, Mummy. You and Daddy keep telling me that. I don’t care what Butterfly is,” she added. “Maybe Butterfly will be a tiger cub!”

She allowed Heather to lead the way back into the reception, her tiger’s determination to return to her father and the relative safety of the fish quite evident. Heather had little desire to be at the dental surgery, and Linda knew that. She knew that Heather’s patience was waning. She really couldn’t bring herself to blame the little girl. It was her fault that Heather had come to view the dentist as a form of extreme torture, and she had yet been able to convince her that it was true -- she had needed to go to the dentist sooner than she had. Whenever someone dared to state that she had neglected Heather’s dental health, she’d found herself defended by her fierce protector. 

She should have taken her to the dental surgery sooner -- both so she could have avoided Heather’s horrendous experience at school, and because she had known that she really did need to have her tiger teeth seen. The fact that she hadn’t made her quite ashamed. Heather, of course, was relieved that she hadn’t gone to the dentist.

She forced herself to focus on Heather. “Of course, Butterfly is going to be a tiger cub,” she assured her. “You don’t have to worry about that.” 

Heather let out a happy squeal. “That’s because you and Daddy are tigers too,” she chirped. “Big brave tigers.” 

Linda did not feel much like a big brave tiger, but she didn’t want to let Heather onto that fact. She was frankly entirely done with the dental surgery, and she wanted to just head home. If it wasn’t for the fact that Heather needed her teeth looked at, she would have gladly led the way out of the dental surgery and to the car. Unfortunately for Linda, Heather needed to have her tiger teeth looked at. She was dreading telling her cub this. 

“Did you have a nice time with Daddy?” 

Heather shook her head. “At first, yeah,” she told her, eyes downcast. “He took me to the candy shop, and he let me get pizza.” 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing!” Heather growled. “Just my  _ dumb _ stupid tiger teeth. They happened. They’ve ruined everything. I wanted to eat my pizza and they wouldn’t let me! The front one’s all wobbles and I can’t tiger tear and my dumb tiger gums, they’re  _ still _ numb.” 

Linda eyed Heather with concern. “Did you have anything to eat at all?” 

She shrugged. “Nothing I wanted. And Da, he was so mean to me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s being horrible,” she insisted. “He won’t stop saying that Siobhan has to look at my tiger teeth, even though I told him that I didn’t want her to! Even though I told him what the dentist did to me when we still lived in New York!” Heather’s roar -- though impressive -- helpfully informed Linda that she needed to eat. It was clear that Heather was hungry. “I told him everything that happened, all the bad stuff, and he didn’t care.” 

“I don’t thank that’s true, Hettie,” Linda whispered. “Your dad, he does care. I promise.” 

“Then why is he making Siobhan look at my tiger teeth?” Heather demanded. “I don’t need my tiger teeth looked at, not if he won’t let the bad one get pulled out. He kept saying that it was important that I have my cub teeth looked at -- that they were normal being wobbly -- but he doesn’t want to go to the dentist either! He’s scared too!”

“Daddy told you that he was scared?” 

She shook her head. “I know that he’s scared! I can tell! But he says that he isn’t! He won’t stop smoking, Mum!” 

Linda held back the sigh that threatened to escape from her lips. “Siobhan is looking at your cub teeth,” she informed her. 

Heather groaned. “I don’t want to,” she whimpered. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “I don’t want her to look at them!” 

“I know, Heather, but--”

“It isn’t fair!” She exclaimed. “You’re going to say that I’m too big to not have my tiger teeth looked at, aren’t you? That’s dumb! I’m not big! I don’t want to be! Daddy missed  _ loads  _ of the cool stuff I learned to do, so now he’s got to pick my tiger teeth as a stupid minestrone!”

Linda exchanged a glance with Paul, and she effortlessly scooped Heather up into her arms. Her tiger cub was clearly upset, and she knew that being held would hopefully provide her with some comfort. 

“Heather, sweetie--”

Heather struggled in her arms. “Put me down!” 

“What?” Linda tried not to let her frustration show. “Why do you want me to put you down?” 

“Cause you can’t carry me!” She insisted. “Da said so! That it might bother Butterfly!”

“Hettie, I didn’t mean it like that,” Paul interjected. “Your mum can pick you up, that’s all right.”

“You said she couldn’t!” Heather hissed. “Downstairs! I wanted her to carry me!” 

“I just meant that she couldn’t carry you up the steps,” he elaborated. “I didn’t mean that she couldn’t hold you.” 

Heather scowled. “Why not?” She demanded. “You were the one who said I was getting big.” Heather’s tone made it clear that she had not appreciated this comment from Paul. Linda worried her lower lip. “I don’t want to get big! Being big means everything has to change!” 

“Like what?” Linda asked her gently. “What don’t you want to change?” 

“I don’t want growed up tiger teeth,” Heather mumbled. She buried her face against Linda’s shoulder. “If I have growed up tiger teeth, I can’t suck my thumb anymore.” Heather let out a heaving sigh. “I  _ like  _ sucking my thumb. It makes me happy. No one else wants me to.” 

Linda exchanged a glance with Paul. “I thought that you and Daddy talked about things you could do that weren’t sucking your thumb?” She reminded her. “Didn’t you?” Heather shook her head. “You didn’t?”

“We did,” she admitted, in a rather grudging tone. “I don’t want to. I like sucking my thumb!” 

“I know that you do,” she sighed. “But, Heather, you have to understand that sucking your thumb isn’t acceptable now that you’re becoming a bigger tiger. Didn’t we talk about this already?” 

Heather nodded. “I stopped!” She insisted. “Why wasn’t that good enough?” 

“Because you started doing it again,” she pointed out. “Why, honey? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing that matters,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters,” Paul interjected. Heather lifted her head up. “You can tell us, and we can fix it.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not broken,” she insisted. “I’m a tiger cub who sucks her thumb, that’s all.” 

Linda shifted her hold on Heather as she sat down in the chair beside Paul. She could have held her standing up, but she was exhausted, and she wanted to rest in a chair that wasn’t directly under a bright light. It was clear to her that Heather needed to be babied, at least for the moment, and she needed to hold her daughter just as much as Heather needed to be held. There was no need to bring up the fact that Heather was going to see Siobhan whether she wanted to or not -- that was not negotiable, and Linda felt that it would be just as easy to deal with it when it happened. Of course, she knew that it wouldn’t be easy at all. Linda didn’t have the energy to deal with an additional tantrum. 

“You’re not broken,” Paul told Heather. She shook her head. “You’re not, Hettie. I know that you’re just a tiger cub who sucks her thumb. But--”

“Stop it! I don’t want to talk about it! Why does it matter? It was before I knew you! You weren’t there, so it doesn’t matter!”

“Heather!” Linda protested. “Your father cares about you. It doesn’t matter that it happened before he knew you -- he wants to know about it. It’s obviously causing you to be distressed.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “We don’t live in New York anymore. I don’t have to see your stepbrothers ever again.”

Linda felt her blood run cold. “What happened, sweetie? Did they hurt you?” 

Heather gave her head a ferocious shake. “I brought Oinkers into the dining room when we had dinner together,” she explained, after a moment of pregnant silence, during which Linda mentally ran through several worst case scenarios. Each had been worse the last, and the fact that Heather’s complaint had something to do with her stuffed pig was a welcomed relief. “They made fun of me for bringing her! Even though I tried to tell them it stopped me from sucking my thumb!” 

“Why didn’t your grandfather stop them?” Linda asked her. She did her best to modulate her tone, recognising that there was no need to emulate a tiger with her rage. Not when they were in mixed company, and Heather was doing so well at it herself. “Honey, did he stop them?” 

Linda supposed that she could have also asked Heather how Monique had responded, but she truthfully didn’t care what her stepmother had said or done. She was just as soon done with the woman entirely. 

“Grandpa said that I was allowed to bring her places,” Heather mumbled. “It doesn’t matter. I tried bringing Oinkers places and not sucking my thumb. It didn’t work.” She sniffled. “Can I have Penny, Mum?” 

“Of course you can have her.” Linda brushed a kiss to Heather’s forehead, and she reached into her handbag for her daughter’s trusted companion. Penny was pressed into Heather’s arms, and she watched as she hugged her tightly. “Butterfly enjoyed cuddling with her,” she added. 

Heather’s eyes lit up. “They did?” 

Linda nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I think so,” she told her. “I think that they knew that you had left Penny with us to keep us company, to make sure that we were protected. Just like how you had Siobhan sit with us and hold my hand.” 

“Did she stay, Mummy?” Heather asked her. Her voice was hoarse with unshed tears. “Siobhan? Did she stay?” 

“Of course she stayed,” Linda assured her. “The whole time, like you asked her to.” 

Heather eyed her with worry. “How are your tiger teeth? Did he hurt you? Did he tear your tiger mouth up with the drill?”

“Do you want to see?” Linda felt guilty about her actions earlier. Heather had only wanted to look at her tiger teeth, and she had been absolutely horrible to her as a result. “Do you still have your mirror?” 

She shook her head. “No, Da looked at my tiger teeth with it,” she muttered. “He tricked me! I thought he wanted to see them!”

“I did want to see them, duck,” Paul interjected. “I wanted to see what they looked like. You always let Mummy brush your tiger teeth, not me.” 

“I don’t want her to brush them either,” Heather muttered. “She probably noticed my tooth wobbled and that’s why we had to come.” 

“Don’t you want the tooth fairy to visit?” Paul asked. Heather shook her head. “No? Why not?” 

“Ruth told me about her, how she sneaks into your house and leaves you money. How do I know she’s not one of your fans? They scare me! Ruth told me that she’s not scary,” she added. “That she’s been visited by the tooth fairy loads of times, and it’s been all right, but is she telling the truth?” 

“She’s not lying to ye, Heather,” he whispered. Linda watched as he took his hand and caressed Heather’s back. “I’m sorry that the fans are scaring ye...I think...I think maybe we ought to look into getting another house.” 

“But we have another house,” Heather insisted. “In Scotland!”

“I know, duck, but Mum wants me to deal with the hot water and the rats, y’know,” he sighed. “I am dealing with them, but even when they’re dealt with we ought to have a place here, in England.”   
  


Heather sighed. “Why? I like the farm! Even with the rats!”

“Because of Butterfly,” he explained. Linda’s ears perked at the topic of conversation. “Going to Scotland’s fine, y’know, I like it there, too. But we have to have a base in England because Mummy and the baby need to be close to civilisation. Mummy’ll have appointments to check on the baby, y’know? It’s not good for mums who have babies on the way to be far away from their doctors or nurses.” 

“Like your mum?” Heather asked him. She’d shifted on Linda’s lap so that Penny could be pressed between her and Butterfly. “She helped people like Mummy, didn’t she?” 

“Mum’s got a doctor,” Paul told her. “Me mum was a midwife.” 

“Why can’t Mummy go to a midwife like your mum?” Heather demanded. “We can’t even go with her to the doctor. Could we go to a midwife? I want to know how Butterfly is.” 

Linda watched Paul run his fingers through his beard. “I dunno, duck. That’s up to Mum,” he said after a moment. “I know you want to know how Butterfly is.” 

“We can talk about it later,” Linda told them. She didn’t have the energy to delve into a discussion on what types of prenatal care she was planning on getting while they were still at the dental surgery. It was bound to be a topic of conversation that was fraught with emotions, and she didn’t think that Paul was very keen on discussing emotions in mixed company. The fact that he had brought up the fact that his mother was a midwife and not a doctor was shocking enough to her -- she didn’t want Heather to press Paul further than he had been. “This isn’t a discussion that Daddy and I want to have at the dental surgery, Heather.” 

Heather shifted closer to her. “But, Mum--”

“Your mother said that we’d discuss it later,” Paul told her, his tone gruff. “I said that I know you want to know how Butterfly is. Your mother and I want to discuss it later.” 

Heather grumbled, but she nestled her head against Linda’s tummy, and lapsed into silence. 

Linda met Paul’s gaze. “Are you okay?” 

He shrugged. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just want to talk about it later, that’s all. Like you said.” She watched him light up a smoke, Heather’s comment about how much he’d been smoking echoing in her mind. Linda elected to leave it. Paul had gone to the dentist, and managed to make it through both of his fillings. Considering how horrible her experience had been, she felt he was entirely justified in smoking. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Linda asked. She did her best to maintain a neutral tone. She didn’t want Heather to be terrified over her terrible experience getting her filling, no matter how much she longed to confide in Paul. “Why did you order so much food?” 

“One of the pizzas is for Siobhan,” he explained. He ran his free hand through his hair. “Heather and I thought that it might be nice to order her one, since she’s come off on her day off to help us out.” He sighed. “I thought maybe Hettie’d be able to eat the other,” he added. 

Heather made a mournful sigh. “I wanted my pizza. You won’t throw it away, will you?” 

“No, we’re not going to throw it away,” she assured her. “We’ll bring it home, and put it in the fridge for when your tiger teeth are behaving better, okay?” 

Another sigh. “Thank you, Mummy.” 

Paul cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about the gel, duckie. I thought that it would help you.” 

“It makes me feel weird!” 

“I know,” he said. “I really am sorry, Het. I didn’t think it would stop ye from being able to chew proper-like.” 

“It’s like I’m not even a tiger anymore!” Heather whinged in protest. “How can I be a good tiger if I can’t tiger tear or tiger chew with my tiger teeth?!”

“You’re not a tiger anymore?” Linda heard Siobhan say, and she noticed that Heather had turned a cautious gaze in direction of her voice. “That’s too bad, because I was wondering what it would be like to have tea with a tiger.”

“Why were you wondering that?” Heather mumbled. 

“Well, I don’t know,” she told her. “I just found this book in the examination room,” she continued, and she brandished Heather’s library book. “About having tea with a tiger, and I thought maybe I’d get my chance if I had tea with you. You’re a tiger, aren’t you?” 

Heather hesitated, and then nodded. “I  _ am _ a tiger,” she declared. “Gimme gimme my tiger book.” 

“Heather,” Paul warned. “What do we say when we want things that other people have?”

“Daddy and I gotted you pizza?” 

“We say please,” he corrected her. “Not gimme gimme.” 

“Can I please have my tiger book?” Heather asked Siobhan. 

“Will you come to tea with me?” 

Heather hesitated, and then nodded. “I’ll have tea with you,” she said. “What about Mummy and Daddy?” 

“You go have tea with Siobhan,” Paul encouraged her. “Have your soup, darling.” Heather scowled. “You need to eat it.”

“Tigers don’t eat soup!” Heather protested. 

“Sure they do,” he said. “Thisbe’s had it. She’s a moggy, same as the other tigers.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Will you make sure Mummy and Butterfly are okay?” Siobhan heard Heather ask Paul, whose lap the little girl had moved into after a final hug to her mother’s middle. Siobhan knew that Linda needed some time to decompress, which was never going to happen with an ever-listening five year old in the same room as her. That was why she’d asked Heather if she wanted to go eat with her, though she’d truthfully expected her to put up more of a fight. It seemed, however, that the tiny tiger was simply resigned to her fate. “Daddy!” Heather chastised. “Are you even listening to me?” 

Paul had been gazing intently at Linda, and Siobhan suspected that he hadn’t been giving Heather his full attention. Not that she was going to let the tiger cub onto that fact. There was no need for Heather to realise that she’d essentially been ignored. 

“Of course, I’m listening to you,” he told her. “I’ll do whatever it is you want of me.” 

She watched Heather’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “You’ll do whatever I want of you? What does that even mean? I want you to make sure Mummy and Butterfly are okay!”

“Of course I’ll make sure they’re all right,” he promised her. “You won’t be gone forever,” he added. “Don’t you trust me to care for your mum?”

Heather sighed. “I guess,” she allowed. “I just don’t want Butterfly to be scared again.” 

“They won’t be. I promise, duck, we’re going to sit in here, that’s all. We’re not going to go anywhere that would scare your little sibling, or your mummy.” 

“Or you!”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t get scared,” he lied. “I’m a big brave tiger, the same as you.” 

“Daddy,” she sighed. “Don’t be daft. Big brave tigers can still get scared.” 

Siobhan elected to put Paul out of his misery, and she tugged on one of the ears on Heather’s tiger hood. Heather glanced up at her. “Come on, little one,” she beckoned. “We should go eat. You don’t want your soup to get cold.” 

Heather pulled a face. “I don’t want it at all. I want the pizza, Siobhan, but my tiger teeth, they wouldn’t let me eat it,” she informed her, gesturing to an abandoned plate with a slice of pizza on it. “You said that good tiger cubs eat their pizza -- I  _ am _ a good tiger cub. I tried so hard.”

Paul gave Heather a grin. “You are a good tiger cub, darling,” he cooed. “It doesn’t matter if you have pizza or not, y’know? But maybe Siobhan could sort you out with the pizza, y’know, if that’s what you want?” He shot her a pleading look. “Maybe she can cut it up for you?”

“Will you?” Heather’s voice was incredibly small. She briefly met Siobhan’s gaze before returning her gaze to her father. 

“Of course I will,” she assured her. “I wouldn’t want you to have to have soup if all you need is your pizza cut up.”

Heather wrinkled her nose. “Soup is yucky, except when Mummy makes it,” she declared. “Mummy makes it when we cuddle together on the settee and Da makes a warm fire. It’s okay then.” 

“I don’t blame you for not wanting the soup,” she told her. “I’m sure that your mum and dad will be more than glad to eat it. They want to be compliant tigers, don’t they?” Siobhan leveled Paul with a knowing gaze. “Don’t they?” 

Heather giggled. She climbed off Paul’s lap. “What does compliant mean?” She asked her, her tone curious. 

“It means that Siobhan thinks Mummy and I want to behave and not ignore what the dentist told us to do,” Paul answered, his tone rather evasive. “I haven’t the faintest idea where she’s gotten that idea.” 

“Because you’re supposed to listen to him!” Heather protested. “Da! I told you that you should!”

Paul pulled a face. Heather giggled at his expression. “Come on, duck, do I have to be a compliant tiger? It’s not very fun.”

“You do!” She insisted. “Siobhan said that you had to! You told me that she studied tiger teeth!”

Paul scrubbed his hand across his face. “I did tell you that, didn’t I?” He reached his hand out and squeezed Heather’s. “I’ll be a compliant tiger, if it suits ye.” Siobhan watched as Heather scrubbed the side of her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it to mirror Paul, or because her molars were causing her some discomfort. She was going to ask, when Heather continued to speak. 

“It does,” she told him. “You gots to be a compliant tiger.” Heather reached out for Siobhan’s hand, much to Siobhan’s surprise. She accepted the gesture from her. “Can you carry the pizzas?” Heather asked her. “I’m too little. I don’t wanna drop them and make your dad mad.” 

“Of course, I’ll carry the pizzas,” Siobhan told her. “You don’t have to worry about that.” She turned her attention to Paul. “You didn’t have to get me a pizza,” she told him. “It wasn’t necessary.” 

Paul shrugged, and she watched him wrap his arm around Linda’s shoulders. Siobhan tried her best to ignore the stab of jealousy she felt when she saw the gesture. She knew that they were in love -- hell, they were getting married, and having another baby together -- but there was a part of her that was just a little sad. It was stupid, really. She knew that she’d never had a chance with him. 

“It might not have been necessary,” he told her. “But you didn’t have to come in on your day off to take care of us, y’know? I know that I’m a horrible patient and that’s why you had to come in. Heather thought that you might be hungry, and since we were getting the pizza anyways, y’know, I reckoned why not get you some?” 

She offered Heather a smile. “You’re sweet,” she said. “This was your idea?” 

Heather nodded. She gave her a bashful smile. “I wanted to get you something to eat. Pizza’s my favourite.” 

“Well, we’ll have to make sure that you can eat it, won’t we?” Siobhan asked. She ruffled Heather’s hair. “I’m sorry that your tiger teeth made it so you have to have your pizza cut up.”

The little tiger offered her another grin, this one wide enough to reveal that Heather had a wobbly front tooth. Siobhan’s gaze lingered for a moment on the wobbly tooth, before she refocused her gaze. Heather’s front tooth had clearly been loose for quite some time, and she didn’t see the need to draw what was likely unneeded attention to it. It appeared that Heather had noticed that her tiger tooth was the subject of Siobhan’s gaze, however, and she clamped her mouth shut. 

“You’ll make it better, right, Siobhan?” Heather asked her. Her eyes were wide. “The pizza,” she added. “Not my tiger teeth -- they’re fine.” 

“Your tiger teeth are just fine,” she agreed, because it was the truth. They were perfectly normal cub teeth that were growing and making way for her adult tiger teeth. However, Siobhan neglected to mention that out loud. Even though Heather had obliged her for sitting in the chair for her x-ray, she’d made it quite clear that she wanted nothing more to do with any of the procedures that could be found at the dental surgery. They had come, Heather had insisted, so that Daddy could have his broken tiger teeth fixed. She’d mentioned her hope of evading the upcoming appointment at the dental surgery. It was clear that she had little desire to have her teeth examined, even by Dr. Bertram. Though Siobhan was going to look at her tiger teeth either way, she saw little need to mention so. “Why don’t you give Mummy and Daddy a hug?”

Siobhan had been about to suggest that Heather say goodbye to her parents, but she caught herself just in time. There was no need to even inadvertently suggest to her that Paul and Linda would be leaving. Even though Siobhan knew that Paul wasn’t willing to leave Heather alone in the clutches of the dental surgery, and she assumed the same applied to Linda, she also knew that part of the trauma Heather had related to the dentist had everything to do with the fact that she’d been refused access to her mother. Siobhan didn’t think that was very fair. She’d never force one of her patients to see the dentist -- or even herself -- on her own. 

Heather lapsed into silence as they left the reception area. She clutched both her dog and her book with a fierce intensity, as if she was almost afraid that they would disappear. Siobhan didn’t want to force her to talk to her. She knew that Heather had legitimate fears about the dentist, and she didn’t blame her for having them. 

“Why don’t you sit down at the table?” Siobhan asked. Heather, though still silent, obliged her. She sat down in the seat that Siobhan had gestured to, and placed the book on the table in front of her. Penny got a position of honour on Heather’s lap. “Penny was very well behaved when she was with your mummy,” she told her. 

Heather offered her a ghost of a smile. “She’s always well behaved,” she told her. “She didn’t bark, did she?” 

Siobhan shook her head. “No, she was very well behaved,” she promised. “She kept your mummy and your little sibling company.” 

Heather scratched Penny behind her ears. “You have a doggie, don’t you, Siobhan?”   
  


“Yes,” she told her. “How do you know?” Siobhan knew that Heather had seen them at the park, but she didn’t want to let on. There was no need to traumatise her. 

“I saw you!” Heather insisted. “I was with Daddy. He wanted to go say hi to you, but he told me who your dad was. I was too nervous, even though you had a doggie, and Martha wanted to play.” 

“It’s okay, Heather--”

She shook her head. “No, it isn’t. He told me you were nice and not scary and I didn’t believe him. I should have been brave and let him introduce us. I just got scared because he said your dad was the dentist.” Heather shuddered. “I don’t like dentists. I don’t want to have Dr. Bertram look at my tiger teeth.” 

“I know that you don’t like dentists,” she told her, giving her her full attention. Cutting the pizza could wait. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“A secret?” Heather echoed. “Why would you have a secret for me?”

“Part of the reason that I became…” Siobhan trailed off, and started over. “I went into a specialised training programme to be able to help cubs who were having their tiger teeth examined because I didn’t have someone like me to help me feel better when I was a cub like you and going to the dentist. My dad had hygienists, sure, but they didn’t have the best training when it came to comforting scared cubs, and even though my dad was a dentist, I didn’t like coming to the dental surgery very much.” 

Heather nodded. “I don’t like visiting my daddy at work, either,” she whispered. “They fight all the time and they’re so loud! John gets mad that I came but he always brings Yoyo Nono! And he doesn’t even work with tiger teeth,” she added. It was clear by her tone that Heather considered Dr. F’s job to be the worst job a person could have. “I would never go to work with Daddy if he worked with tiger teeth.” She frowned. “But Dr. F. is your daddy,” she pointed out. “Wasn’t he nice to you?” And then. “Siobhan? I’m hungry. Can you cut up my pizza?”

“Of course I can cut up your pizza,” she promised her. “It was nice of you to get me one,” she added. “You didn’t have to do that.” Siobhan had heard Heather’s question about her father, but had decided that it was better to not answer her. 

It wasn’t that Siobhan’s father was a bad parent, far from it. Dr. Fitzpatrick was a caring -- if somewhat distant due to a combination of his upbringing, and the long hours that he put in at the dental surgery -- father to his children. She just couldn’t bring herself to answer Heather’s question with any degree of honesty. Heather was a child, and she didn’t need to hear that while Siobhan loved her father, and her father loved her, Dr. Fitzpatrick cared deeply about his patients’ dental health. When Siobhan, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, or any of her sisters were in the chair, her father solely saw them as extensions of their teeth. 

Heather had of course had to have noticed this unfortunate habit of her father’s. Siobhan knew there had likely been a marked contrast in her father’s behaviour between their encounter in the florists and how he’d behaved when he’d gotten a glimpse at the damage Paul had caused to his teeth. 

Heather shook her head. The gesture caused her hood to fall into her eyes. “You came in on your day off,” she told her. “To make sure that Daddy felt okay at the dentist.” Heather shuddered. “And you let me get Butterfly a treasure! We wanted to do something nice for you, and Daddy told me that you liked pizza, so I thought you’d want one of your own.” 

“Thank you, sweetie.” Siobhan patted the top of Heather’s head. “Are you going to give Butterfly their treasure when they’re born?” 

“When she’s big enough,” Heather said in response. “It’s tiny...it might be too little for Butterfly when she’s first born.” 

She finished cutting up Heather’s pizza, and placed the plate down in front of her charge. “There you go, love. Let me get you a glass of water.” 

“You won’t leave, will you?” There was a hint of panic in Heather’s tone. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“No, I’m just going to go get you a glass from the sink,” she told her. She gestured to the sink that was in the corner of the breakroom. “Is that okay? I won’t leave.” 

“Uh huh,” Heather nodded. Siobhan watched her eat one of the pieces of pizza. “You can. I’m thirsty.” 

Siobhan crossed the room to the sink and filled up two glasses of water -- one for her, and one for Heather, and she wished that her father wasn’t present in the dental surgery, both for her patients’ comfort, and her own. She couldn’t blame Heather for being nervous about him. Her father cut an imposing figure. Paul had mentioned when he had rung the surgery to request that they fit his daughter in for an appointment that Heather was very shy, and quite sensitive about her position in his life. It hadn’t been an issue for Siobhan to view Heather as Paul’s. He’d asked her to, and if that was what he and Linda wanted, that was what mattered. There was no need for her to make Heather feel like she was less than. 

In contrast, her father had been rather aggrieved at his erstwhile patient having had the nerve to tell him how behave in his dental surgery, even though Siobhan had pointed out that she felt it reasonable that Paul handle his child, while her father handled his patients’ teeth. Besides. Heather was Paul’s, regardless of any components that made her appear not to be. 

However, the fact that he’d been faced by Paul having to have an emergency filing, coupled by the fact that it was almost Christmastime, had melded with her father’s unfortunate tendencies to view differences of opinion as both affronts to him and reasons to affect a terrible temper. Taking it out on Paul would have been fine. Siobhan was fond of him, but her father had legitimate reasons to be annoyed with the oft-missing Beatle. It was his behaviour towards Heather and Linda that she found to be offensive. 

She glanced back at Heather, who was sat on the chair, Penny having received a place of honour on the table beside Heather’s plate. It was clear to Siobhan that Heather loved Penny. “Does Penny get her own slice of pizza?” She asked her. Heather shook her head. “Why not?”

“Penny doesn’t like pizza,” she sighed. “She’s not like Martha. Martha loves pizza so much!”

“How is Martha?” Siobhan asked her, as she tried desperately to tamp down the jealousy that emerged whenever she heard Heather’s accent. She’d tried everything she could to loose her brogue, especially since it became a reason to mock her, and she’d seemed stuck with it. “I haven’t seen her at the park recently.” 

“She’s good,” Heather told her, her tone obliging. “I wanted to bring her, but Da, he said no. I dunno why. She came with us to his work once.” Heather devoured another bite of her food, and she followed it with a gulp from her water glass. “We haven’t been to the park cause we’ve been at the farm!”

“Do you like the farm?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, there are so many cool animals there,” she informed her. “It snowed, real hard, and we got to play in it! We made snowpeople!” She scrubbed at her face. “Martha, she had fun herding the sheep. She almost didn’t want to leave. We came home because we get to see baby Brenna.” 

“Are you excited to meet her?” 

Heather nodded. “Yeah, I guess,” she sighed. “I just hope she likes me. That she thinks I’m her cousin.” 

“Of course, she’s going to like you,” she assured her. “I’m sure she’s looking forward to meeting you, just as much as you’re looking forward to meeting her.” While she didn’t know if that was entirely accurate, she knew that Heather needed reassurance. She didn’t need factual information about newborns.

Siobhan didn’t know what to do with herself. She wanted to sit down, but didn’t want to upset the tiger. Heather had already had a tantrum. She didn’t want to cause her to have a second. So she stood behind Heather’s chair, and picked up her plate of pizza. 

“You sit with me,” Heather declared, when she glanced up and noticed Siobhan hovering awkwardly. “We eat pizza together.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

Heather gave her a decisive nod. “I don’t mind, Siobhan. You cut up the pizza for me, so I could eat it. We eat pizza together.”

Siobhan sat down in the seat beside the tiny cub, and she offered her a smile. “How is the pizza?” She asked her. “It’s not too hot, is it?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, it tastes yummy! Pizza’s one of my favourites,” she continued. “I don’t know why my tiger teeth aren’t working right. They worked fine earlier.” 

“How aren’t they working right?” Siobhan asked her. “Do you want to tell me? You don’t have to. Only if you feel comfortable.” 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“I want to go home,” Linda whispered, once Heather had been escorted from the room, her hand held by Siobhan. She hadn’t wanted Heather to hear that she wanted to leave the dental surgery. Heather would have clung to it as a reason not to go through with her dental cleaning, and she couldn’t let that happen. “Please, Paul, don’t make me stay.” 

Without Heather present, Linda could drop the veneer that she’d developed to not alarm her child. She knew that they needed to stay so that Heather could have teeth looked at, but, in truth, she really didn’t want to. The thought of conceding to their daughter’s dreams of never going to the dentist was entirely tempting. It was just that she knew that it couldn’t happen. No matter how much she wished that it could, for both her sake, and Heather’s. 

“Lin…” Paul started to say, and she felt him wrap his arm around her shoulders. “Y’know that we can’t do that,” he settled on. “Y’know that she has to be seen by Siobhan, her teeth are bothering her.” 

“They wouldn’t be bothering her if your dentist hadn’t forced the two of you into trying that gel,” she snapped. “She would have been able to eat her food, because she could have chewed it. Instead, she’s miserable.” 

“I only gave her the gel because I thought it would help her,” he pointed out. She felt a stab of guilt. Paul had only been trying to help Heather, and she had thrown his efforts back in his face. She wasn’t even angry at him. She was angry at Dr. Fitzpatrick. “I didn’t know that it would make her gums so numb that she couldn’t chew. He never said that it would.” 

She drew in a deep breath. “I’m not angry at you,” she muttered. “I’m angry at him. It was bad enough how he treated me, but I’m used to it. I don’t appreciate the fact that he had you give our child something that was going to entirely numb the sides of her mouth, and not explain that explicitly to you. Now Heather isn’t able to eat how she should, and I have to force myself to sit there while she gets her teeth looked at! She thinks that I want to do this. That I think of new ways to torture her. Doesn’t she know that I hate it?” 

Maybe the hormones from her pregnancy were contributing to Linda’s rage, but she felt that her anger -- at the dentist, and not at her fiance -- was entirely justified. 

“I hate it,” she whispered. She briefly looked him in the eyes, before dropping her gaze to her lap. “I don’t want to force her to go to the dentist, and if she didn’t have to, I wouldn’t make her. I didn’t want her to have to go to the dentist at that stupid school,” she continued. She flexed her fingers into a fist. “I didn’t want her to go to that school at all, but I couldn’t just make that decision for Heather, could I?” She drew in another breath. “She thinks that I want to force her into that dental chair to punish her, but I put it off as long as I could. I told the school I said no to that dental examination. That should have been my right as her mother. They thought they knew better than me.” 

Linda drew in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. “I’m so sick of people thinking that they know better than me,” she told him. “I’m Heather’s mother, and if I didn’t want her to go to that horrible school, there was no need for my father to overrule me.” 

“Are you upset about the school?” Paul asked her. She felt the warmth of his hand on the small of her back. “Or are you upset about the dentist?”

“I’m upset at the fact that it seems like everything I do is wrong,” she elaborated. “I didn’t want to send Heather to that school, and I was explicitly clear about why, and my dad forced my hand on the subject. I knew that she was going to be miserable there. She not like the other kids, Paul, she’s sensitive, and going to Dalton was traumatic for her. I told them that I didn’t want her to be seen by the school dentist,” she insisted. “I don’t care that she hadn’t gone. They deliberately ignored me.”

“They shouldn’t have done that,” Paul insisted. She could hear the sincerity in his tone, but she knew that Dalton didn’t care about what they shouldn’t have done. “Honestly, Lin, none of that should have happened.” 

She shook her head. “It was going to happen from the second she walked into that building, and I let it happen. I didn’t have the energy to fight my father over it, over and over again. He never understood.” 

Paul heaved a heavy sigh. “Look, I know that your father has ridiculous expectations for you and Heather, but I don’t really care about them anymore. He can be cheesed off about her being home schooled if he wants to be, but it’s not his choice. He can’t control what you do with her anymore. She’s going to be our daughter, and I don’t care what your father wants for her.” He squeezed her hands. “What I care about is what you want, and what Heather wants. If that happens to coincide with what others want her to do, well, that’s brilliant. I don’t think it matters anymore if it doesn’t.” 

Being a single mother had meant that Linda had had to pick and choose what battles to fight, and she had fought for Heather’s right not to be humiliated in front of her peers over a visit to the school dentist, and, when she’d thought she’d been successful, had been promptly ignored. She could have handled being ignored, even though it bothered her that the staff at Dalton thought they knew better than her, but she couldn’t handle the way they’d treated Heather during, and after, her dentist appointment. 

“They whipped her,” she told him. Heather had mentioned that she had told Paul about the terrible experience that she’d had that the school dentist, so Linda no longer felt like she was betraying her confidence by talking about it. 

“I know, Lin, she told me.” He shook his head. “It makes me really angry that they did that, and that that bloody Headteacher here hurt her, too. I have half a mind to give the lot of them a taste of their own medicine, y’know, to see how they like it.” She glanced up at him. His jaw was set, and he looked quite angry. “I didn’t want her to see how upset I was when she told me, because I didn’t want her to be upset with her, because, I’m not. I’m angry at them.”

She drew in a shuddering breath. “They gave her horrible welts because she cried, Paul. Because she wanted me! That was worth breaking a little girl’s skin and spirit? Not wanting to sit still for the dentist? I know that she has to have her teeth examined,” she added. “I just...I wish that she didn’t have to because I don’t want her to think that I want what happened to her in New York to happen again.” 

“I know that you don’t,” he whispered. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. “Siobhan isn’t going to hurt Heather, Linda. I wouldn’t have suggested that she become her hygienist if I thought she was going to do anything like that. What happened to Heather -- that was horrible, Linda, and it was wrong, but it won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again. I’ll protect both of you.” 

“I don’t need to be protected,” she mumbled, a token protest. “I just want Heather to be happy.” 

“She is happy!” He insisted. “I mean she might not be happy about the dentist, but who is?” 

“He was horrible to me,” she whimpered. “I don’t ever want him to examine my teeth, ever again.”

“What happened?” Paul asked her. “Was it that bad?” 

“I don’t particularly enjoy having my mouth numbed either,” she informed him. “The whole experience was dreadful. I really...I wanted you there. I couldn’t make Heather come back in, though, even though Siobhan offered to get you. She was already terrified. I wanted you to be there so you could sit there with me and hold my hand.” She sniffled. “Can I sit with you now?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, Lin, of course you can.” 

Linda climbed off the chair she was sat on, and she settled herself on Paul’s lap the best she could. She unbuttoned the top button of her skirt as she did. The denim material was awfully constricting, and the feeling that she was squeezed into her skirt like a sausage was doing nothing to improve her mood. Paul’s hands gravitated easily to her middle, where they cocooned the tiny swell that contained their child. 

“Have you been giving your mummy some trouble, darling?” He cooed, his attention directed towards the baby. “Giving her all sorts of trouble with her teeth?” 

“It was horrible,” she whispered. “I don’t know how you could stand having two filled.” 

“I only went along with it to set a good example for Heather,” he admitted. “Had it not been for her, I’d have gladly had the dentist do away with ‘em. Or just have not gotten it fixed. I wanted to set a good example.” 

“I’m proud of you,” she told him. She covered his hand with hers. “You’ve been setting all sorts of positive examples for Heather, you know that, right?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t,” he told her. “I’m a horrid example for her. I don’t know why you say otherwise.” 

“Why do you say that?” Linda questioned. “You’ve done so well.” 

“God, Lin, how can you say that?” He asked her. “I’m such a cockup. I try so hard to do everything right for you and the kids, and I just can’t get it right. Like today. I wanted it to be perfect. We’d go out and you’d relax, and then we’d have a quiet night at home. But my bloody tooth cocked it all up. Look where we are. The whole night is ruined, and we’re meant to get married tomorrow. I didn’t want you to spend the evening before your wedding stuck at a dental surgery.”

“The whole night hasn’t been ruined,” she reminded him. “I mean, I thought we were going to have a nice evening together when we came home. Draw a bath, relax in the bubbles with a glass of wine, see where the evening takes us?” She waggled her brows. “At the very least, I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.” 

“Are they bothering you?” 

“Well, not your jumper,” she told him, as he lifted the hem of said jumper, in order to catch a glimpse of her midsection. She was sure it was an unfortunate sight, with her skirt half done up. She didn’t really care. “I don’t think I’ll ever wear this skirt ever again.” 

“I think you look beautiful,” Paul said after a moment, and she felt his fingers caress her bare skin. “You’re carrying our baby, Lin, and trust me, that’s very attractive to me.” He nuzzled her lips. “I’m sorry that you’re having a rough go of things. I wish they’d behave better.” 

She squeezed his fingers. “It’s part of being pregnant,” she assured him. Her words were somewhat slurred because of the numbness of her face, but she was sure he understood her intent. “I know that you’re worried about me, and about the baby, but we’re…” She craned her neck in order to look at him. “We’re okay, Paul, I promise. I would tell you if there was anything alarming going on.” 

He drew in a deep breath. “I’d feel better if I was able to go with you to your appointments,” he said after a moment. “I know that you said we’d talk about it later, and we can, but I just wanted to let you know.” 

“I said that because I didn’t want Heather to keep asking, not because I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” she whispered. “I don’t have a problem with going to a midwife. I know you want to be there. I just needed her to stop asking about it because it wasn’t the time or the place, you understand that, right?” 

She watched him lick his lips. “Yeah, Lin, I understand. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I was okay with it. If we were to go to one.” 

  
  
  
  



	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “John doesn’t live in the big house anymore,” she informed her. “He went away.” Didn’t Siobhan know that? She was sure that everyone knew that Julian’s mum and dad weren’t together anymore. John was quite proud of that fact. Maybe Siobhan didn’t know about John’s trip to stay with the princesses, but she’d reckoned she’d heard of the other things. “He was staying with us,” she added. Heather scowled at the memory. “But he and Yoyo did things that Daddy and Mummy didn’t like.”
> 
> Heather wasn’t fond of either John or Yoko. 

Heather wondered if Siobhan and Daddy thought she was unobservant, or if they truly thought that she was gullible enough to believe that they were watching her eat because they were hungry. In Daddy’s case, his claims of hunger had almost been believable, as he couldn’t eat the sandwich because of his tiger teeth. Siobhan, however, was entirely capable of eating her pizza. She was even doing so! So why was she so curious about Heather? It made her feel distinctly on edge. 

“Why are you looking at me?” Heather asked her, once she’d finished chewing her bite of pizza. There was an edge to her tone. “I don’t want you to look at me eat,” she informed her. 

“It’s not anything bad,” Siobhan told her, the lilt of her accent catching Heather’s attention. “It’s just...I’ve never eaten with a tiger before.” 

Heather shook her head. “That’s not true,” she insisted. “You’ve eaten with you before! You’re a tiger.” At least, Heather was certain Siobhan had been a tiger at one point. Even though she was a dreadful hygienist, she had to admit that it was only of her job which Heather disapproved. Siobhan herself seemed fine. Maybe being a hygienist had made Siobhan stop being a tiger, Heather wondered to herself. She had to admit it seemed like a possibility. Tigers did not like to go to the dentist. 

“That’s true,” she admitted. “I am a tiger.” Heather was dubious, but she was willing to let it slide. “It’s just...you remind me of my little sister.” 

“Your little sister?” Heather didn’t want to remind Siobhan of anyone. “Why do I remind you of her?” 

“She’s your age,” Siobhan told her, as if that statement was a good thing, and not something that sent chills down Heather’s spine. “I think that you’d like her.” 

Heather had had very little positive experiences with children since she’d entered Dalton, let alone since she’d come to England. No one at school had ever wanted to be her friend, and they were often downright cruel to her. She’d thought that Julian was her friend, but he’d been mean to her, too. She hadn’t even done anything to him! The only person who wanted to play with her was Uncle Ringo’s son, Zak. They were mates -- Daddy had told Heather that was a word that people used to mean friends in England -- and she liked going to Uncle Ringo’s house. There weren’t many fans there to bother her and Mummy, and Zak had a playground. 

She didn’t mind Uncle Ringo. He wasn’t loud and obnoxious or mean to her, like Daddy’s other friends. Sometimes, she was even allowed to help Auntie Mo with the baby. Heather was quite pleased when that happened. Jason liked her too. But, he was a baby. That wasn’t a friend. 

“She won’t like me,” Heather told Siobhan. “No one likes me, no matter how hard I try, or what I do. I try so hard, and everyone at school is so mean!” She desperately wanted to seek out the comfort of her thumb, but she forced herself not to. “Then Julian is mean to me, too, and I thought he was my friend--my mate, I thought he was my mate. Daddy is his Daddy’s mate, isn’t he?” Heather wasn’t sure if Daddy and Uncle John -- who was terrifying -- were even friends anymore. Nevertheless, she barrelled on. “Zak is the only one who’s nice to me. Jason likes me too, but he’s only a baby. He won’t want me to be his friend when he’s big.” 

She took another bite of pizza. Heather hated that her pizza had had to be cut up in order for her to eat it, but she’d had no choice. She hadn’t wanted soup at all. 

“I’m sure that’s not true, Heather,” Siobhan said. “What about your...aunt?”

Heather shook her head. “Daddy doesn’t like her,” she shrugged. “She’s nice to me, and we play together and stuff, but he never lets her come visit us. Ruth asks him if she can and he always has an excuse. He says Mummy doesn’t want company! I asked Mummy if Ruth could sleep over, and she said yes, but he said that! He didn’t even ask her.” 

Heather thought this was terribly unfair. “I don’t like seeing Ruth at her house,” she told Siobhan. John being in the princess castle might have been a secret, but Daddy had never said that she couldn’t talk about Ruth and her stupidhead of a mother. “Grandpa Jim is nice to me...I like him a lot,” she insisted. “He says I can come over whenever I want.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to.” 

“You don’t want to have a sleepover at your grandpa’s?” 

Heather gave her head a ferocious shake. “Angie’s mean to me. She makes me call her Grandma, and I don’t want to. When I told Daddy that, he rang her up, and they got into a fight. Mummy and I were in the other room, but I heard Daddy -- he was so loud. He cried!” Heather’s eyes widened at what she’d let slip. “Don’t not don’t tell Daddy I told you that,” she whispered. “I don’t want him to be angry.” 

“I won’t bring it up,” she promised. “Do you want a pinky promise?” 

Heather considered the offer, and she bravely extended her pinky. “I want one,” she whispered. “Please?” 

Siobhan was willing to hook pinkies with her, and Heather forced herself to ponder whether or not there was a chance that Siobhan was still a tiger. She was very confused by the situation. She didn’t think that a proper tiger would want to work at a dental surgery.

She took another bite of her pizza. Pizza was one of Heather’s favourite foods, and it had been since before she could remember. When she and Mummy had lived in their flat in New York, there had been a pizzeria just a bit down the block, and Mummy had taken her there whenever she’d had the money to. Heather would get a slice of pizza, and so would Mummy. The pizza in New York had been different than the pizza they had in England. In New York, it had been in the shape of a square, while the pizza that Daddy had bought them was round, and cut into triangles. She didn’t really mind, though. It was nice that Daddy had thought of her. 

“Daddy said that Uncle Mike wanted to bring Ruth to the wedding,” Heather told Siobhan, once she’d finished chewing, and had taken a sip of water. If Heather continued to talk, maybe Siobhan would stop staring at her tiger teeth. Even though the sound of her voice made her self conscious, her tiger teeth being stared at bothered her more. “I hope that he does bring her,” she added. “And that after we go meet Brenna, we can have a sleepover.” She sighed. “Daddy probably won’t let her, though.” 

“Not even if you asked him?” 

Heather gave her head a fierce shake. “No, I don’t want to ask him,” she whispered. “I don’t like to talk around them at all, Siobhan! When there’s so many people, I get nervous.” She scrubbed the back of her hand against her face. “Ruth’s bigger than me,” she added. “I wanted her to ask, because she’s brave.” She sighed. “She’s had the tooth fairy visit loads of times, and she said that she wasn’t scary at all! I bet she wouldn’t even be scared of the birds outside of the house.” 

“The birds?” Siobhan echoed. “Daddy’s fans?” 

Heather nodded. “That’s what he calls them,” she informed her. “He said that was what they call them here.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’re mean. They go through all our stuff, and they found Mummy’s pills for the baby. Now everyone knows about her.” She stared up at her with wide eyes. “I mean him, I mean, I don’t know what Butterfly is. But I don’t want them to know, and they found out. That’s why we went to the farm.” She took another bite of pizza. “Now Daddy says that we have to move. I don’t wanna. We have to move because of me.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Heather,” Siobhan insisted. Heather knew that she was telling a lie. The only reason that Daddy had come to the conclusion that they had to move was because Heather was upset about the fans -- he hadn’t minded them before she’d came around -- and she didn’t think that was very fair. She shouldn’t have told him that she was scared. Not if it meant that she was the reason they had to leave their house, and Martha would have to leave all her friends that she knew at the park nearby. Heather didn’t care about leaving the house, but she didn’t want Martha to be cross at her. What if she was? She’d be so sad. “I think that your dad, when he bought that house, he was at a different stage of his life. He didn’t have you, or your mum, so it didn’t make much sense for him to buy a house in the suburbs. Do you know what that means?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “What’s a suburb?” 

“It’s like...where your dad’s mates live,” she told her. Heather furrowed her brow. “Ringo, and George, and John. Those big houses they live in?” 

“John doesn’t live in the big house anymore,” she informed her. “He went away.” Didn’t Siobhan know that? She was sure that everyone knew that Julian’s mum and dad weren’t together anymore. John was quite proud of that fact. Maybe Siobhan didn’t know about John’s trip to stay with the princesses, but she’d reckoned she’d heard of the other things. “He was staying with us,” she added. Heather scowled at the memory. “But he and Yoyo did things that Daddy and Mummy didn’t like.”

Heather wasn’t fond of either John or Yoko. 

She took another bite of her pizza. Her tiger gums were still too numb for her to properly tiger chew, and she hated it. She hated it almost as much as she hated her front tiger tooth being loose. That made it impossible for her to tiger tear. Siobhan had had to cut her pizza up like mum had had to when she was a baby, before she’d met her dad. It wasn’t a development that thrilled her. 

“Sometimes I go to Uncle Ringo’s,” she informed her, once she’d swallowed. “He lives near where John used to live. He has a big backyard and Zak has a playground! Just for him! Do you think that Daddy and Mummy would let me get a playground like that?” 

“You’d have to ask them,” Siobhan told her. “You won’t know what the answer is unless you ask.” 

“I guess,” she sighed. She shrugged. “Do you really have to look at my tiger teeth?” 

“I’m only going to look at them,” she promised. Heather cringed at the thought. “With the mirror.”

“Daddy already bothered my teeth with the mirror, while you were with Mummy.” Heather shook her head. “He told me all sorts of horrible things.” 

“Horrible things?” Siobhan echoed. “I’m sure that Daddy didn’t see anything horrible.” 

“He did!” Heather insisted. “He told me that the reason my gums hurt was because I was getting new tiger teeth!” Heather shook her head. “I don’t care! I don’t want new tiger teeth,” she whimpered. “Daddy’s all excited because he gets to be there for one of my minestrones!” Heather knew that that wasn’t the right word to use, but she was too upset to care. “I don’t want the minestrone that he gets to be my new tiger teeth! I don’t! It isn’t fair! Why can’t it be something I wanted?”

Tears threatened to form in her eyes, but she forced herself to blink them away, as she clutched Penny in her arms. “It’s not fair,” she mumbled. “I don’t want the new tiger teeth, and I don’t want the ones that Daddy made wobble. I wanted him to stop, but he wouldn’t! He kept saying how big I was getting.” She sniffled. “I don’t want you to tell him it’s true.” 

“I know that you don’t like them,” she heard Siobhan say, in what Heather suspected was meant to be a soothing tone, but she focused her gaze solely on Penny. Penny hadn’t betrayed her by taking the mirror that Sioban had given to her to use on Mummy and Daddy and turned it on her, before he listened to the dumb stupidhead dentist and allowed him to take away her ability to chew. “Molars and wobbly teeth are normal for cubs your age, Heather.” 

Heather didn’t want to be normal. Everyone who had been normal at school had been mean to her. They’d bullied her. Now she had to be like them with wobble teeth and visits from the dumb tooth fairy? 

“I don’t care.” Heather cared deeply, but she’d divulged far too much of her secrets and fears at the dental surgery already. “Get rid of them, then.” 

“No, sweetie, you don’t want your teeth pulled just because they’re wobbly--”

“I do!” Heather insisted. “Stop not listening to me! I don’t want to be here, at all.” 

“I know, Heather, but your dad had to be seen--”

“I know he called you!” Heather exclaimed. Every word in the sentence was dripping with hurt, and also betrayal. “He called you and he talked to you about me, and I hate it! I told him I didn’t want to see the dentist! Ever! He lied to me! He told me that what happened at school wouldn’t happen again, and it is! Your dad knew who I was when we were getting Mummy and me our flowers!”

Heather had assumed that the dentist had spotted a photograph of her and Daddy in the papers, or that someone they knew had told him about her existence. She hadn’t realised -- until then -- that Daddy had rung up the dental surgery and arranged for her to be sent to her doom. 

She clenched her fist. Daddy had promised her that she was his, and that he was going to protect her from things that scared her, and what had he done? The exact opposite. “He promised when he became my dad that he would protect me,” she whispered. “Why did he lie?” 

“You’re right,” Siobhan told her, as she slid a box of tissues across the table. Heather grudgingly took one. “Your dad, he rang us up to make an appointment for you, but he didn’t want to, Heather. He only made the appointment after my dad made it clear that you needed to have regular dentist visits, I think that your dad would have never scheduled an appointment if it was okay for him to do so.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “He didn’t protect me at all. He yelled at me earlier!” Heather continued. “I didn’t even know I was sucking my dumb thumb and he yelled at me! He woke me up and scared me!” 

“He shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Siobhan told her. “I’ll talk to him, okay?” 

“No. I don’t want to talk about my thumb,” she insisted. For a moment she’d forgotten that she was in the presence of someone who worked with tiger teeth, and she’d made the mistake of confessing about her habit of sucking her thumb. She’d made a lapse of judgement, that she was insistent on correcting. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Why, because I’m a hygienist?” 

Heather fixated on Penny. “You’ll be mad at me,” she told her. “Every time they see me sucking my thumb, they tell me not to. Sometimes they take it out of my mouth, even though I told them that I need to do it! It makes me feel safe, when everything here is so scary!”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“Heather, I…”

Heather roughly shook her head. “You’re going to tell them that my tiger teeth are bad,” she whimpered. Siobhan could hear the fear in her voice. “That I’m a bad tiger, even though I tried to be so good.”

“No one thinks that you’re a bad tiger,” she attempted to soothe her. Another shake of the head. “Has someone told you that? If they did, they’re wrong.” 

“He didn’t have to tell me,” Heather muttered, her tone subdued. “Your dad, he wasn’t nice to me at all. He told Daddy to ruin my tiger teeth!” It was obvious to Siobhan that Heather felt betrayed by the application of the numbing gel. “I not want to blame Daddy,” she continued. “He’s not a yucky dentist. He didn’t know it would mess me up!” 

“I’m sorry that he did that without explaining to you and your dad what was going to happen,” she told her. “He shouldn’t have done that, Heather, because you should always know what’s going to happen when something is done at the dentist.” 

“I don’t want to know,” she mumbled. “It’s all bad.” 

“I know that you had a bad experience at the school dentist,” Siobhan said. It was important for her to acknowledge that Heather had legitimate needs, and fears. “That’s why I’m going to let you ask as many questions as you want, and you can take a break whenever you need to.” 

Heather gave her head a ferocious shake. “I’m not talking about the school dentist!” Heather insisted. “Daddy told the dentist about me,” she whimpered, her voice filled with anguish. “Why would he do that? I didn’t want him to! He told you and your dad about me even though he knows how I feel about dentists.” She scrubbed her face with her hand. “Not just about dentists! About my tiger teeth! They’re going to be so ugly!”

“Your dad didn’t tell us about you to be mean, Heather,” she told her. Heather gave her an unhappy gaze. Penny was clutched in her arms. “I know that you didn’t want him to, and that’s understandable, but he told us about you because he’s proud of you, not because he wanted to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

“He shouldn’t be proud of me,” she mumbled. “I’m bad. I’m a bad tiger!”

“Why do you think you’re a bad tiger?” Siobhan didn’t think Heather was bad at all, but her training had taught her that it was sometimes best to let the children speak, even though what they were going to say wasn’t true. Their beliefs were just as important as the reality of the situation. “Do you want to tell me?”

Heather wrapped her arms around Penny. “Why does it matter?” 

“Because, Heather, I care about you,” she insisted. “I don’t want you to think that you’re bad, because you’re not bad. I just want to try to help you feel better.”

Heather heaved a heavy sigh. “I not want to talk about tiger teeth anymore,” she mumbled. Siobhan watched her adjust her grip on her dog. “I know you have to look at them, even though I said no. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she promised her. “Is there something that you might want to talk about instead?” 

“You’re a big sister, right?” Heather asked her, after a moment of silence. “I mean, I know that you have a sister, but you’ve have got more than one, right?” 

Siobhan nodded. “I have five,” she told her. “Are you excited about the baby?” 

Heather gave an emphatic nod. “I want to be the best big sister to Butterfly ever,” she informed her. “Mummy and Daddy say that I will, but I don’t know how to be.” She watched her swipe the tissue across her face. “Do you think I’ll be a good big sister?” 

“Of course I do,” she assured her. No matter Siobhan’s personal feelings of jealousy that might have existed at the news that Paul had gone off and started a proper family, whether they existed or not, she vowed to put them aside whenever she was in Heather’s presence. Heather was clearly excited about her new additions to her family -- whether it was in the form of her new father, or in the form of her unborn sister or brother -- and she had to admit that the little girl’s excitement was catching. Siobhan also wasn’t delusional. Paul was nice to her, sure, and he’d invited her to his concerts, but she knew that he also thought she was a kid. He was never going to pick her. “You’re excited for the baby, right?”

Heather nodded. “They’re named Butterfly,” she informed her. “The baby.”

“Is that what your mum and dad want to name them?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, they said Butterfly could be a nickname,” she sighed. “I not know why they can’t name her that. I want a sister,” she added. “I know Butterfly might be a brother.” 

“I think that they want Butterfly to be their nickname because it’s a special name that you picked out for them,” Siobhan answered, her tone gentle. She didn’t want to point out that it was likely because Butterfly wasn’t actually a name. There was no need to crush Heather’s spirit. “Sort of like how people call you Tiger, but it’s not your real name?”

Heather scrunched up her nose. “People don’t call me Tiger,” she said after a moment. “Tigers call me Tiger, why would people do that?” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “But you mean how like my dad calls me duck sometimes?” 

Siobhan nodded. “Yes, that’s what I mean. Your dad calls you duck because he wants to call you something special.” 

She nodded. “He thinks I’m special,” she informed her. “That’s not true, but he thinks it is.” 

“Of course it’s true,” Siobhan assured her. “You are special, to your mum and your dad.” 

“Daddy said that he picked me, and that that makes me special,” she continued, as if she had barely heard what Siobhan had to say for herself. “I like that he picked me. I have a dad now, but it doesn’t make me special. I don’t want to be special, Siobhan! Being special...that’s bad. It means that you’re different than everyone else.” 

“I didn’t like it either, when I was your age. Everyone at school laughed at me for how I talked. Even though I tried to sound like them, it didn’t work.” Siobhan tried her best to maintain a neutral tone, though she still harboured feelings of bitterness at her treatment at the school that she and Heather had both had the misfortune of attending. “I told my mum and dad what the kids at school were saying about me,” she added. “My dad went to the school to speak to the Headteacher, and--”

“Daddy tried that too,” Heather interrupted, though she didn’t mind. “He went to the school and he spoke to the Headteacher, and nothing happened. Everyone was allowed to be mean to me, and the Headteacher was mad that I told him. But no one believed he was my dad! Why wouldn’t I tell him?” Siobhan watched as she ate a piece of pizza. “I dunno why they made fun of you,” she added, once she’d swallowed. “Your voice...it sounds so pretty.” 

“I hated it,” she told her. “I just wanted to sound like everyone else, and it didn’t help when my younger sisters...they...they don’t sound like me,” she settled on. “They sound like they’re from London, and it was very hard on me that I couldn’t change how I spoke...like you.” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t sound normal,” she protested. “I want to sound like Daddy, but I not don’t do it all the time. Even though I try to!” Her lower lip wobbled. “I try so hard,” she added. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m not his.” 

“Heather--” Siobhan drew in a deep breath, and she beckoned Heather over to her. “No one who matters will care,” she promised her. “Do you want a hug?” 

After a moment, Heather nodded. “You’ll let me hug you?” 

“Of course, I will,” she promised her. “I’d love a hug from my little tiger.” 

“I’m really your little tiger?” Siobhan could see a spark in Heather’s eyes as she processed what she’d said. “Do you really mean it?” 

She nodded. “Of course, Heather. I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“You promise?” Heather demanded, as she approached her. “You promise you aren’t lying?” There was a decided edge to the tiger’s tone. 

“Of course, Heather, I promise,” Siobhan assured her. “I wouldn’t lie to you about you being my little tiger.”

Heather gave her an appraising gaze, before she solemnly nodded. “I want to sit on your lap.” 

  
  
  



End file.
